


Down the Rabbit Hole

by TheQueen



Series: Chasing the Rabbit [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, High School, Keith (Voltron) does his best, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, M/M, Major Character Injury, Slow Burn, Time Travel, minor character injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2018-08-16 09:24:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 34
Words: 53,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8096713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheQueen/pseuds/TheQueen
Summary: Time travel might not be the worst thing Lance has ever dealt with. But it sure does feel like it.





	1. One

It starts when he wakes up. Breathing hard and scrambling against the soft bedding and heavy comforter until he falls flat against the wood floor hard enough to take his breath away.

There are stars on his ceiling. The kiddy glow-in-the dark kind instead of what he's grown used to -- brush strokes of black and blue and purple dotted with real stars and planets and meteors. This is a star map from the project he’d done to learn more about the stars -- a project he'd started two weeks after deciding he'd be applying to the garrison. A project he'd created on earth.

Lance takes a deep breath, sits up slowly; does his best not to scream. This is his bedroom. His earth bedroom, with the blue walls and the black furniture embossed with white, made of wood and cotton instead of metal and the Altean version of wool; with the correct model of the stars on his ceiling and the hand-me-down laptop sitting on his desk. But there are also bags -- orange and green and brand new; ready to be packed. They were bought the minute they’d found out he’d been accepted into the Garrison because they didn't have enough bags to pack everything Lance thought he'd need to move to...

"Oh no…” He thinks he hears people outside and his heart picks up, beating faster and faster as he tries to make sense of what's going on. Galra trick? But how would they know so much? Aliens are unaware of humans, of their customs and their culture and their language let alone what Lance’s bedroom should look like when he was fifteen years-old. Hallucination? Then why was he so lucid? Why was everything so... real? Space magic? What had he been doing before he woke up? What had happened to make him wake up?

Where…. Where was everyone else?

The door opens and he spins, going for his Bayard and finding nothing. It throws him off-balance. He falls forward on his knees instead of back on his haunches. His brother laughs, says… something that Lance can’t hear because he feels the blood rush to his face as his heart keeps pounding and breathing becomes hard. He forces his hands together to minimize the shaking and feels the nails biting into his skin.

Ray is there now, grasping his shoulders and Lance gasps, trying to suck in more air. Trying to breath. And then there are more hands and someone is distinctly calling his name as black begins to dot his vision. He's hyperventilating. Panicking. He's seen Hunk do it, once or twice after a hard enough battle where they barely managed to save anything other than themselves. He has enough self-awareness to realize he needs space. Needs air. He pushes at the hands on him, scoots back until he hits his bed and tries to straighten his spine while everything in him just wants to curl up into a ball and scream.

He stays like that, eyes closed and focusing on breathing, until the air comes easier. Until he can take a few deep breaths and open his eyes.

His family is there. Ray and Sarah and his mother and his father and the baby twin cousins and his aunt poking their heads in through the door because they'd stayed over after everyone left, after his celebration party.

And... And he's supposed to fly out to the Garrison soon. Something in the back of his mind whispers _three weeks_ and he thinks that’s right. It feels right. He's supposed to start his career soon.

"Lance," his mother steps forward, arms open. Looking for a sign of… something? that Lance isn’t sure how to give. He can breathe, but it doesn’t mean anything makes any more sense. Doesn’t mean he isn’t so very confused.

"Fuck," Lance hisses, forcing his legs to stand underneath him. Because he might not understand what's going on but... He needs to focus. At the Garrison he can find the others. Hunk. Pidge. Keith. Shiro. They might know what's going on. They can make a plan together. He hisses when he stumbles and his mother is there, her warm hands around his arms and her smell. Her hair is darker than he remembers, her face has more wrinkles. But she smells the same and he soaks it in, leans closer so his ear is resting against her heartbeat because he’s still small enough to do it. Tears prickle at the corner of his eyes and he lets them fall. "I..." He looks up, sees his brother has stepped closer and Lance shoots him a tired smile. Because he's 18 and the last time Lance had seen him he was 20 and in love. It's almost funny to see this gangly pre-college version again.

"Sorry," Lance says when he feels steady enough. He still wants to cry, to scream. But he fights it down, compartmentalizes. Mission first, emotions second. "Sorry, I...” he makes a gesture, trying to push the issues away. But he doesn’t let go of his mother, not really. He grabs her arm and plasters on his most charming smile, the kind he pulls on kings and queens and prime ministers when Voltron needs alliances or has stumbled into another political disaster. He makes the mistake of catching his mother's eye and tries not to let the smile fall. She's worried and Lance doesn't want to worry her, but what can he say?

(And he refuses to focus on everything in him that wants to break down and hug her closer and never let go. Beg her to let him stay. Beg her to not leave him even though he's the one that left, is going to leave.

He has to. He's a Paladin of Voltron. He is one of the Defenders of the Universe. He's been fighting long enough to know it’s all bigger than him and what he wants.

What he wants doesn't matter. _Focus on that_.)

"Dude," Ray hisses and Sarah nods. Both of them come up and give him a hug. He hugs them back with one arm and focuses on breathing them in, memorizes the way they fit together. "Way to scare the shit out of us. I thought you were having a heart attack,” Ray says.

"Sorry," Lance repeats.

"Is this about the Garrison...?” his dad starts but Lance cries out, insists otherwise.

"Nononononono,” Lance stresses. "Dad!” he goes for another grin and pushes forward, "I'm fine!"

His father doesn't look very happy and he turns to his mom. "Mama, please."

"Breakfast," she says. "We can talk about it when you feel better. But maybe we should call the doctor…?”

He’s about reassure her, insist it’s just a panic attack before realizing he doesn’t have a way to explain why he panicked at the sound of his brother’s voice and the fact that he woke up on Earth when he’d never left home before. So he follows them downstairs and tries his best not to let anything else slip.

Trying to come up with a plan.

.

He can’t come up with anything. Can’t even remember anything important.

What had he done yesterday (and could he really call it yesterday when here he was, fifteen years old and braiding his sister’s hair as she chatted about a boyfriend Lance knows would last maybe a month and a half)? He trained with Allura. Talked and cleaned with Coran. Bickered with Pidge. Helped Hunk stress cook. Read and joked around with Keith. Stargazed with Shiro. And then bed…

And then…. And then he woke up.

Right…

Right?

.

Fifteen is an awkward year, an awkward time during puberty where he’d started growing tall but his legs hadn’t quiet gotten the memo. Lance pokes at himself in the mirror and tries to smile. He’s soft. Squishy. He hasn’t been this soft since… well… since he was fifteen.

The scar under his left eye that nearly left him blind is gone.; the claw marks on his shoulder; the gouges left from shrapnel on his right hip; the burn on his left arm after a bad crash.; te little nicks and cuts that scar without the need of a healing tube. It’s all gone. All…

He pokes at his skin and tries to smile.

.

Seven days later and his resolve almost breaks. They’re eating dinner, eating something his father had picked up on his way home from work because his mother has been stressed lately and Lance knows it’s his fault where once he might not have realized it. War and diplomacy and playing peacekeeper after Keith’s temper and Hunk’s righteousness causing more than one too many issues with the locals when Shiro and Allura couldn’t step in has taught Lance to _look_ more, to read people better where before he had always let his charm carry him. And so he notices this time--the tension in his mother’s shoulders; the way the bags under her eyes darken; the way she focuses on cleaning the house and the way her temper runs a little hotter than it should (than the way he thinks it should).

He brings it up with Ray in passing after three days because Ray asks him what he’s thinking and, after living in a household with only seven people and no escape except a quick death in space, Lance has learned the hard way that secrets and lies only ever lead to more trouble than they’re worth. Maybe the rule doesn’t apply here on earth the same way, but it should. It would make things easier.

The Krith didn’t believe in lies. Saw it as the great offense to be accused of such a thing. They’d stopped an execution and freed a minority class on that planet, but even so, perhaps humans could learn a thing or two from them.

Ray shrugs. “You’re leaving home,” he says as they both gaze out at the ocean. Low tide and peaceful. The sun is hot but the sea wind feels too good to move. “I’m eighteen, man, and even I’m not going as far. You’re going all the way to Nevada to do Lord knows what for the US military.”

Lance snorts, a little bitter. Lance has a feeling he knows exactly what he’s in for at the Garrison.

For a moment he’d entertained the idea that he was the only one back. The only one who remembered. For a moment he thought about what he could do with all his knowledge of the future; petty things. Cheating on tests and blowing his teacher’s away with all his experience with flying when they thought he was a newbie. But he sobered quickly, digging his fingers into the sand. He didn’t want to be the only one back. He couldn’t be the only one back.

(What was he going to do if he was the only one back?)

And so when his mother chokes on her words over dinner as his father argues that Lance should buy this and that to take to the Garrison, Lance considers just… not going. Staying until the blue lion came for him (because he knows Blue will come for him. He knows that he can’t escape his fate). Staying the two years until they have to leave for space getting to make memories with these people and memorizing their faces.

He’d always dreamed about flying as a child, about touching the stars when he was a teen. Getting into the Garrison and then the fighter pilot class was everything he’d ever wanted when he was younger. He was going to take on the world, getting famous, and fly where no man had ever flown before. It had been his greatest dream.

Now it doesn’t matter, does it? Because he’s fated to go. Blue will take him flying, Blue will take him to places humans were never meant to reach in his lifetime. He doesn’t really have to go to the Garrison to achieve his dreams does he…?

But then he remembers his other family. Pidge and Hunk and Keith. Shiro. Allura and Coran. He has to go. If they’ll be waiting for him there then he has to go.

He is a Paladin of Voltron after all.

Focus on that.

Focus on that.

.

He goes to the beach that night and walks into the ocean. Feels the water lap at his toes. Sits down and feels the way it soaks into his clothes, chills his skin. The sea wind whips at his hair and he gasps, tasting the salt that is in the air, drying on his skin.

His cheeks are wet. But he knows it’s just sea spray.

.

They go shopping for clothes and shoes. Lance remembers being excited, chatting a mile a minute. He tries to echo it, tries to laugh as loud as he should, to talk as loud as he should. He bumps elbows with his brother, begs his mother for ridiculous clothes and a frog hat, jokes around with his sister and teases her about her boyfriend.

He thinks they fall for it.

At least they look happy.

.

One day his brother asks him what’s wrong and Lance says he’s just worried. Let’s his brother fill in the pieces.

It isn’t a lie if he said the truth. It isn’t a lie even though it feels like it is.

.

At some point he ends up at the airport. His bags are packed, his room is cleaned. He’s standing outside of security, clutching at a boarding pass and his carryon luggage trying to understand how he got here. His mother is crying. His father is wishing him luck, telling him how proud he is. His brother makes him promise to call. His sister makes him promise to visit. He hears them. But their voices sound far away. Sees them, but they look blurry. Feels them as they hug him, pat his back, kiss his cheek. But they feel distant, far away. Far out of reach.

Just like always.

And then he’s on a plane, lifting off. Flying. Just like he always dreamed about and he feels the tears falling on his cheek and he stifles sobs. He puts his face in his hands and tries not to let his shoulders shake too much. He’s made his choice after all.

There is no time to regret. He made his choice.

Focus on that.

He’s a Paladin of Voltron.

Focus on that.

_Focus._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the pre-time travel scenes takes place three years after the start of the show. So yes, he’s mellowed out since the start of the show in those three years they’ve been fighting in space, but he’s also kind of a mess right now.


	2. Two

It’s raining when he lands.

He tips his head back, lets the water fall against his hot face, lets it soak into his clothes. He wonders if Blue can feel it and for a moment he almost thinks he can feel her purring in the back of his mind like she should (like she will). But it’s not possible. They haven’t met. They will. Lance doesn’t understand a lot of things, but things that he does he clings to. And he knows he will find Blue, of course he will.

Of course he will.

The Garrison has sent a hover bus painted to look like a classic school bus- yellow and black. Lance’s school had never had a bus. His mother had driven him to his charter school every morning and his father had picked him up every day like clockwork. He had been so excited to see a hover bus the first time; everything at the Garrison had been so new.

Now he climbs in and only notes the way the air conditioning leaves him shivering in his wet clothes. He finds a seat somewhere near the front and sets his carryon between his legs and looks down. Slowly the rest of his class fills in. He will never graduate with them. The thought doesn’t leave a sour taste in his mouth like it should. It is just a thought. Fleeting. He takes it as fact and lets it go.

The seat next to him dips and he looks up and sees a girl, also fifteen with beautiful long hair and a heart shaped face. The kind of girl he’d hit on as easy as breathing at this age. But he’s 21 and she’s 15 so he keeps his mouth shut this time around. “Are you okay?” she offers.

Lance tries to smile for her. “Yeah… Sorry.”

She frowns, shifts closer and rests a hand on his. “No need to apologize.”

Lance nods, looks down, and closes his eyes.

When he wakes, it’s to that girl shaking him off her shoulder and he stammers another apology. She waves it off. “We’re here.”

“Thanks,” he says through a yawn and grabs his bag. His clothes have started to dry but it’s still raining and the children around him shriek as they run to shelter. But the girl stays by his side as he walks slowly through the crowd. “Lance,” he says, finally, once they’re inside and the crowd has begun to thin.

“It’s nice to meet you, Lance. I’m Shivanni,” she says as she pushes wet hair off her face. “Are you a pilot?”

“Yup!” he tries for excited as his eyes scan the welcome board. He can’t quite look at her, embarrassment coloring his cheeks. How childish she must think he is? If he remembers right he roomed with Aaron the first semester before Aaron dropped out and he transferred to Hunk’s room. He looks over at Shivanni as she looks over the board and realizes he doesn’t recognize her. Not even in passing. “Are you also in the pilot class?”

She nods as she uses her finger to find her room. “Maybe we’ll see each other in class?” She shoulders her bag and her face becomes solemn for a moment. “I’ll see you, yeah?” But it doesn’t feel like a question. Not really.

And before he can help it, he finds his mouth stretching into the first genuine smile he’s given in a long time. It’s small, but it’s there. “Yeah.”

“Perfect!”

.

It’s telling that as he settles in his room, Hunk never knocks on his door. Lance tries not to worry too much. He’ll meet Hunk tomorrow. Maybe Hunk is just waiting for the timeline to play out just like Lance is.

(And if he thinks it enough, maybe he’ll start to believe it. His hand shakes.)

.

Morning roll call was not something he missed. There were many things on Earth and from the Garrison he missed. Noise for example. Birds and nature and wind rattling on windows instead of the steady hum of engines and technology so advanced it might as well be magic. Food was another. Instead of solid food being a rarity that was only available when they managed to stop on Neutral or Alliance planets and the majority of meals consisted of the Altean MRA food goop, Earth meant solid, well-seasoned food that could not only be expected but demanded. It was one of the things he’d missed the most - comfort food.

But morning roll call, a series of alarms and bells coupled with drill sergeant screaming and the clambering of hundreds of confused students, left little to be desired.

“Wha—What’s going on?” Aaron stammers, practically falling out of his bed as Lance starts pulling on his uniform.

“Wake up call,” Lance shrugs. “You’re gonna wanna be dressed.”

By the time Lieutenant Yu arrives at their door, Aaron has just finished tying his shoes and Lance is standing at attention. Aaron is quick to copy. There is a moment of silence and then, “Good work, Cadets.” Lance fights down a sigh of relief. The Lieutenant might even be smiling. “Proceed to the canteen.”

Lance spares no time grabbing his phone and heading to the mess hall. From what he remembers it was a mad house. What surprises him is when Aaron follows him out. "Way to go, man," he grins, giving a light, friendly punch on Lance’s shoulder. And... This is new? Aaron had been distant when Lance had first met him, a bit stuck up and a bit rude. Nothing that made him a bad roommate but not someone Lance considered friend material. Hypocritical, perhaps? But truthful. 

Aaron explains when he sees Lance's confused face, "You saved my ass back there, dude. I would have tried going back to sleep if you hadn't told me to get dressed."

"Oh..." Lance blinks and then shrugs, putting on a cocky smile because it's... nice knowing he'd helped this kid out. The Garrison had a steep learning curve, one he'd struggled with when he'd stated. "No problem, dude. Roommates, right?"

Aaron cheers loud enough that a few of the other students who weren’t as lucky during the morning wakeup glare as they make their way down the hall. "Course, my dude. We got each other's backs!"

.

Eating breakfast with Aaron went better than expected. In fact... it was fun. Maybe his memories were wrong? Maybe Lance had made Aaron worse than he was. Yeah there was that cockiness and yeah there was the unsubtle bragging about cars and houses and trips abroad that still made Lance envious. But as he listened, he realized Aaron wasn't speaking maliciously. He was just a teen. A teen who might not understand the value of money, but still a kid. He'd learn just like everyone else, but at the moment he was harmless.

Part of Lance has to wonder how much he projected and how much is truth. 

Either way, Aaron wouldn't be here for long and that makes Lance sad. He’s a good kid, Lance means it. Maybe there is something he can do...

Next is assembly - A "Welcome to the Garrison" speech and some fanfare before classes start. This is where Lance would meet Hunk. His breathing picks up. 

"Nervous," he says because he still isn't ready to lie and Aaron gives him this sort of understanding smile and Lance smiles back, another small, genuine smile before hurrying to catch up to the thinning crowd. Nothing good ever came out of being late. They'd started off the morning lucky. Hopefully it would hold. He isn't sure what he'd do if he got chewed out, he isn't sure he'd have the... patience....

As they walk into the auditorium, Shivanni finds them. "Morning Lance,” she grins. She looks good, hair tied up and wearing makeup. She could work on the evenness of her eyeliner and Lance wondered if he should teach her. Sarah had always appreciated it when he'd done her makeup and Shiro had been no different. Maybe he could give her a few tips. "It's good to see you. How are you?"

"Good," he reassures her, smiles for her. Aaron shoots him a look and tries to discreetly wiggle his eyebrows. Lance just rolls his eyes. Dear lord, no. Once they enter, he can't help but stand on his toes, scanning the room as Aaron and Shivanni introduce each other. 

"Who are you looking for?" Shivanni asks. 

Lance doesn't pay her any attention, looking for that familiar orange headband, certain Hunk would be looking back. Maybe if he went towards the front... "Let's move up," he tells them and they grumble telling Lance they were uncertain if they wanted to be noticed by the officers and lieutenants just yet before following his lead. The longer Lance looks, the more he worries. He can't find him... He can't find Hunk. Did he decide to stay home like Lance had wanted to? He knew Hunk missed his family, but staying... They couldn't stay. Could they? Had Lance made a mistake? He wanted t... But he was needed. He was a Paladin of Voltron. 

Focus.

_ Focus.  _

It's then, breathing heavy and picking at the edge of his sleeves while Shivanni and Aaron share concerned looks that someone pats him on the shoulder. Well… really it’s less of a pat and more of a firm jab that shocks Lance. But when Lance turns he’s smiling because there he is. There Hunk…

"Keith?" His smile drops. His shoulders tense.

Keith grins up at him, all soft and fifteen years old, height difference exaggerated at this age, hair in that same original, awful mullet he'd had before he finally listened to Lance and grew it out. "Oh thank fucking Christ."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Think I can do daily updates? I don't know... but let's try it! That being said I'm not proof reading these as much as I usually do so please point out any jarring typos/grammar errors. Thank you!
> 
> Also Keith! And OCs! They aren't really fleshed out yet, but... give'em a chance. I got something like a plan! CX


	3. Three

"What are you doing here?!" Lance cries, shock and disappointment falling away in the face of Keith's obvious relief. 

Keith laughs, dazed as Lance pulls him for a hug. No it isn't Hunk, but it it Keith. His teammate, his friend, his go-to-partner on away missions. Keith who is incredibly easy to fight with and against and Lance can feel the tears prickle in the corner of his eye. He's not alone. He's not alone. 

( _ Focus on that. Don't think about it. Focus on Keith. Focus on now. Emotions later _ .)

"I have no idea," Keith says, pulling away. "You have no idea how good it is to see you.”

Lance frowns. "Have you found any--?” Suddenly the noise starts to lower as the students around them seem to settle as one. Lance feels his teeth clatter as he shuts his mouth and looks up to see that they’re only a few feet from the stage, the officers and lieutenants walking out. Keith and Lance snap to attention out of muscle memory alone as Lance fights with himself not to panic. In his peripheral, he sees Shivanni and Aaron (and he’d forgotten about them. What had they heard?) copy them.

.

After the assembly Keith grabs Lance’s arm as they walk out. “Meet me at my dorm. NC-56A, alright? We’ll talk more. I gotta go.”

Lance nods his agreement. They’re just starting and Keith is already in a higher class than him. A small, old hurt flares before Lance quickly and quietly puts it away. He hasn’t thought like that in a long time. He’s a Defender of the Universe. He is the Blue Pilot. Keith is his equal no matter how people try to view them on earth. Lance knows this. It took too long to learn that lesson to let a few days back in the Garrison undo it all. Besides, it didn’t matter in the long run; Blue would take him to space. He didn’t need the Garrison, not really.

The Garrison was just their common ground. Keith, Hunk, Pidge, Shiro - all of them came here. Lance could thank the Garrison for that.

“Dude?” Aaron frowns, falling into step next to Lance, Shivanni walking on his other side, and Lance feels the blush crawling higher and hotter on his cheeks.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, looking down. “That must have been awkward.”

Aaron huffs and Shivanni laughs, “Nice to know you found your boyfriend though,” she says and Lance takes a moment to realize she’s teasing.

He squawks all undignified and flailing limbs like he really was fifteen. “He—He’s not my boyfriend!  _ Shivanni! _ ”

“Hey man, not gonna judge,” Aaron adds when Lance throws him a look, begging for a lifeline. “He’s cute if you’re into mullets.”

Lance laughs, loud and barking and it startles him. It also seems to startle them. When was the last time he’d laughed like that? Not in the last three weeks, certainly. But… but perhaps even longer, not so genuinely. But he pushes that thought away, enjoying the company of these two kids as they make their way towards class. “I know, his hair is horrible!” Lance whines as they enter their classroom. Their peers are already chatting amongst themselves as their teacher writes something on the board.

For a moment, Lance can almost believe he is just a student as the three of them find seats.

.

It’s easy then to fall into routine, enjoy the rest of the day as he should. As he did. Shivanni and Aaron are welcome companions, their good humor pulling him out of whatever thought he tends to stumble upon. Once or twice he loses himself, let’s his attention wander to the window only to be called upon by a teacher to answer whatever question they have at the moment. Shivanni flashes him a thumbs up after he correctly answers First Lieutenant Rodriguez’s question on what to do when your ship begins leaking “blue liquid” which is actually the new fuel source NASA had been using that acted as a backup burning fuel when solar power wasn’t available. The correct answer was to run and run as fast as you can. The official answer was longer.

He’d failed a simulation not running fast enough. His leg had been caught in the explosion. The simulation had lasted just long enough for Lance to see his leg a bloody stump. He’d spent the rest of the day throwing up, huddled in the nurse’s office.

At lunch, Shivanni demands answers, books, and notes that Lance must have stored away to know so much. It catches him off-guard, makes him realize he’s already made mistakes; he’s not supposed to be this good. He’s supposed to be Lance, not Paladin Lance. Not yet. Here he’s just Lance. He needs to tone it down.

After lunch comes the practice simulations, Lance’s favorite part of the day. It was there that Lance and Hunk had bonded most. Friends that first year but closer when they’d become a team even with Pidge’s hard stares and silences enduring in the background. But that’s okay. It passed. They became close. Family.

He misses them.

Next to him, Shivanni knocks into his shoulder and winks. Lance looks up and sees Aaron being called up. He is tense, face dark. He’s over thinking it, Lance realizes. He’s panicking. And Lance can’t help it. Even though he knows it’s against conduct and bound to get him attention in all the wrong ways, Lance still opens his mouth. “Kick some space ass, roomie!” he cheered, over-the-top and ridiculous so Aaron looks up with raised eyebrows and a barely-there blush on his dark skin. “You can do this, soldier!” Lance laughs as he recites one of their recruiting posters.

“See you on the other side, Space Cadet,” Shivanni joins in, giving him a salute. Clearly a reference that Lance didn’t know. Aaron laughs, as do some of their classmates. Their teacher gives them a leveled stare that would have once cowed Lance into silence. Now he just echoes Shivanni’s salute, trying to stay "serious", as Aaron steps into the simulator.

.

His communication officer is a boy named Yuen. His engineer is a girl named Jessica. It’s not the same, but Lance still smiles for them when he enters the simulation. The seat is familiar. The controls outdated relative to what he’s grown used to flying - Blue and the occasional pod. But it’s still all familiar enough. When the simulator starts, he takes off and all his thoughts of keeping his head down and playing it safe fly out the window in the face of beautiful blue skies breaking into stripes of black sparkled white and yellow in the distance.

And Lance… Lance feels free. Seeing the stars, that empty open space. He grins, wide and genuine. His heart feels lighter, here. Way up here nothing really matters. Where he’s just one little part of this beautiful diverse universe how can anything really matter? And as their ship levels out, co-ordinates calling them towards Mars, he lets it all go and flies.

.

When he steps out of the simulator, his classmates are silent. Aaron is grinning. Shivanni is too, even though there is something off about it. A sort of uncertainty that makes Lance uneasy. Someone starts clapping. Slowly others join her. Lance blinks. Once. Twice. Takes a deep breath. And looks up at the scoreboard.

Best time in the class.

.

After class finds Lance with Keith. They're sitting in Keith's dorm room, a single. It’s small, barely enough room for a bed and a nightstand and a set of drawers. Not that Keith has much; he wasn't much of a hoarder, wasn't someone who clung to sentimental things. The only thing Lance knows Keith held onto is a small portrait of the team and a friendship bracelet Hunk had made him a year into their mission.

Lance is the first one to speak. "We're the only ones who came back?"

Keith doesn't say anything. What can he say? Lance pulls himself up onto the bed and takes a seat next to Keith and let's his head fall into his hands, trying to breath. Silence. And then Keith moves, places a warm hand on his shoulder. "Yeah... Shiro didn't know me."

Lance sniffles and takes another deep breath. "I can't find Hunk. He might have stayed home? If he remembered and decided he didn’t want to repeat two years at the Garrison."

"And Pidge?"

"She won't come until after the Kerberos Mission," Lance sighed, wiping the wetness from his cheeks. He sits up, rolls his shoulders to dislodge Keith's hand. "Okay.... Okay. We need a plan."

Keith looks at him for a moment before nodding. He jumps off the bed, hitting the floor with a thump, and pulls a white board out of his closet. He props it up on his desk and pulls out an unopened package of Expo markers. In blue, he writes "What We Know" on one side of the board. In green, he writes "Questions" on the other side. He picks up the blue expo. "What do you remember?"

Lance shrugged, thinking. "I just... We had a normal day, right? Just a day on the ship. I know it was night. We went to bed and when I woke up I was here."

Keith wrote sleep on the board and hummed thoughtfully, tapping the marker against his lower lip. "What's the last mission we went on? That... We liberated Evos, right?”

"From the Galra. Were there any druids?" Lance asked, jumping down to stand next to Keith. The battle had been simple - a quick Voltron slash with Keith's sword and they'd been done.

"No." Keith said, making a note on the board. "Just a basic fleet since Evos was on the frontier. We were making our way back to the hub, right? The Alliance was having a meeting."

Yeah... Why though? What... Why did the memories feel so far away? Why was this so hard to remember? Ever since the Princess had agreed with his insistence on an annual Alliance War Conference, Lance had made it a point to read the itinerary. So he must have started reading… Lance snaps his fingers, "That's it!"

"What? What's it?" Keith frowns, turning to look at Lance in confusion. 

"The conference, right?" Lance urges. "Do you remember the itinerary?"

"Yeah. Just basic stuff, right? Supply trades and old feuds." Keith frowns, thinking before finally he made a soft " _ Oh... _ " 

"Storms," both of them say at once. 

"There had been a series of electric storms in a few of the sectors," Keith recalls. "Ships disappearing and reappearing a few days later at their expected destinations."

"Their crews were disoriented. Some of those interviewed kept asking for the date..." Lance's grin grew and it felt a little manic. "That must be it! We got hit by one of the storms."

"But why only us?" Keith asks, writing "space storms" in blue. As Lance writes "Others?" in green. "If our ship got hit by the storm, where's everyone else? Where’s our ship?"

Lance sobers, his glee fading as the questions built. Under "Others" he wrote "Ship?" and "Galra or Natural." "If it was an attempt of the Galra getting us out of the way permanently, then..."

They both fall silent, neither one able to say it.

_ Then maybe the others didn't make it… _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the lovely support you guys! I really appreciate all the feedback. 
> 
> So I've realized my folly. I have aged and then deaged Lance. Lmao. As such, a lot of his character is based on where I think the writers will take him. Hopefully it all makes sense to you guys too. 
> 
> Also I know nothing about military structure. But I'm assuming a First Lieutenant could be a teacher. I could be wrong. If I am please correct me. Thank you!


	4. Four

Lance doesn't sleep well that night, tossing and turning. Thoughts of his family, floating lost and alone in space. Hunk's blood staining the yellow of his lion. Pidge's finger's lifeless against a control panel. Shiro's head lying forgotten in the head of Voltron or worse... captured and sent to fight in the arena, and that thought leaves Lance shaking and muffling sobs into his pillow to avoid waking Aaron as he remembers his own time spent with the Galra Druids, their voices still ringing in his ear - threats and promises and reminders of pain he can never forget. 

When he does manage to fall asleep in the early hours of the morning, it's fitful, unfulfilling. He wakes just as tired when morning roll call begins, blurry-eyed and disoriented. He sees Aaron in the distance dressing in his uniform. His head hurts. His mouth feels dry. When he turns on his phone, he finds three missed calls from his mother. 

He leans over the side of the bed and throws up. 

"Jesus!" Aaron cries, grabbing the trash can to catch the second lurch, careful to step around the puke on the floor as Lance starts crying, clinging to the trashcan like a lifeline. 

"Sorry," he whispers, throat raw. Snot settling on his upper lip as he goes through the motions of throwing up for the third time. He spits when nothing comes up. "Sorry. Sorry. Sorrysorrysorrysorry..."

"Hey, hey," Aaron hushes him, rubbing soothing circles on his shoulder blade as he gestures to someone else. And then Lieutenant Yu is stepping into frame and Lance gives another shudder. 

"Are you okay, son?" the Lieutenant asks, voice gentle and Lance sobs harder. He feels awful. Aching and sleep deprived. Worried and terrified. Stressed. The remnants of his  nightmare lurking just in the distance, ready to consume him.

"So-Sorry," Lance chokes out as Aaron keeps murmuring, “it's okay, everything is going to be okay.”

Lieutenant Yu gives him a gentle smile. "Let's get you to the infirmary, son. Come on then." They both help him sit up and then get off the lofted bed, their grips strong enough to keep him from face planting in his own sick. 

As he's led out into the hallway to the curious stares of his peers, Lance, for just a moment, wished he'd died with the rest of them. 

.

"It was the rain, wasn't it?" Shivanni scowls, running a gentle hand through Lance's hair as he snuggles deeper into the covers. He’s sleepy. The nurses gave him the good stuff. Anti-nausea and fever reducers. Aaron is holding his hands. He hasn't let go since they got to the infirmary and Lance isn't sure he wants him to let go. He misses his mother. 

(He never wants to see her again.)

"Rain?" Aaron prompts.

"He stood in the raining like an idiot when we got out of the airport," Shivanni explains. She removes her hand and Lance almost whines. She laughs softly, putting her hand back. "He was soaking wet when I met him."

Aaron whistled low. "You're an idiot."

Lance laughs and tries not to grimace at the state of his throat. 

Shivanni is about to launch into another lecture when there's a quiet knock on the door. Lance can't move, doesn't want to move. But then Shivanni giggles and shifts away as someone takes her place. Cracking open an eye as a gloved hand finds his own, Lance smiles. "Morning, Mullet Man."

Keith scowls, "Please don't make that a thing again."

"You have a mullet," Lance states, "You are a man. As such, Mullet Man."

On his other side, Aaron shares a look with Shivanni that Lance maturely ignores. "Don't you have class?" Lance asks as it suddenly dawns on him. "You shouldn't skip your second day of classes."

"Then you shouldn't fall sick," Keith says, blunt as ever, and Lance sighs. "What were you thinking, idiot?"

"I know right," Shivanni groans, nudging Keith softly. Lance's eyebrows raise when Keith doesn't immediately flinch back. "I'm Shivanni."

"Aaron, Lance's roommate," Aaron offers a hand that Keith shakes quickly before letting go. 

"Keith," Keith introduces him. “Just so you know, he’s awful at taking care of himself.”

Shivanni laughs, “Yeah, I think we’re catching on.”

"So how do you and Lance know each other?" Aaron asks. 

To Aaron and Shivanni, Keith must look bored. His face blank, the perfect poker face except for the tight panic in his eyes as he looks at Lance. It takes a moment for Lance to realize he's waiting for Lance to answer. "Met on the internet a few years ago," Lance says vaguely. "We've never actually met in person before, though. So I didn't really know what I was looking for. Ya know... other than the mullet."

Keith scowls and removes his hand from Lances to cross his arms. Pouting. Lance laughs. It's surreal to see a fifteen year old Keith Kogane pouting when at fifteen Lance had been certain Keith didn't have emotions and was, in fact, a robot programmed to fly. It isn’t that he isn’t used to Keith’s pouts and temper tantrums. Living with only seven people with grand personalities lead to pettier fights more often than one would imagine, but he’d never gotten to see that behavior on a Keith so young.

At least something positive could be said came out of this.

Maybe…Maybe if they weren’t. Maybe Lance could take pictures? With that in mind, he grabbed his phone.  

Keith flinches when the flash came on. “What’d… What?”

Lance smirks, hiding the phone back under his covers. “Nothing.”

Keith narrows his eyes. Shivanni shots him a thumbs up. Aaron jokes, “You guys are so cute.”

Lance scowls, “He’s not my boyfriend,” he insists as Keith blushes.

“You sure?” Shivanni teases as Keith grows even redder.

“Wha-!” Keith stutters, “What? No! God, no.”

“Hey!” and now it was Lance’s turn to pout even though it’s ruined by a yawn. “I’d be a great boyfriend, Mullet Man.”

“You’d forget every anniversary,” Keith points out, clearly referencing the time Lance forgot the first anniversary of finding the blue lion despite everyone’s efforts to throw a party.

“Yeah well… at least I know how to cook,” Lance points out, “You wouldn’t be able to survive a day by yourself without a microwave.”

“Oh you burn eggs one time…”

“More like twenty.”

“You’re right,” Aaron deadpans, “You’re not dating. You’re married.”

.

It’s night the next time Lance wakes up. There are adults escorting another student in. In the dim light, Lance can’t see them right. A teacher and a nurses start speaking in hushed voices. Lance pretends to sleep; this feels private.

“…perhaps rethink this career choice…” the teacher is saying, much to the student’s displeasure.

There is more talking and the nurse mentions something about anxiety medication. And then they’re alone. The infirmary is oddly quiet at night, just the sound of machines and the occasional patrol. Lance doesn’t remember if he’s ever slept here or if he usually just went home with Hunk? He’s been to the infirmary for simulator crashes and clumsiness, but he doesn’t think he’s ever slept here before. This is a first. He hopes he hasn’t missed too much homework skipping classes.

But sleep eludes him. The thoughts of nightmares makes him dread closing his eyes. Finally, he can’t take it anymore and sits up.

“Oh. Sorry did I wake you up?” And Lance stops breathing, feels his heart hammering against his chest. Because oh no.  _ Oh no. _

Lance turns to face the other student and sees the same fluffy hair, the same warm eyes, the same kind smile. Lance feels his heart plummet. “My name’s Hunk.”

Oh  _ nonononononononononono _ .

“Lance.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the feedback!
> 
> BY THE WAY! I have started a Voltorn Big Bang called The Primary Big Bang. It is a bang that focuses on the bonds between Hunk, Keith, and Lance. These bonds do not have to be romantic (Klance, Klunk, Heith, Hance/Lunk) and can be Gen. It is up to the creators! If you're interested, please check out our tumblr: voltronbigbang.tumblr.com. 
> 
> We are currently looking for mods (09/23/2016) and writer sign ups will start soon (10/01/2016).


	5. Five

Lance realizes on the fifth day of class as he walks to the simulator for their afternoon session that he’s tired. Not just a normal tired. Not a tired that you could sleep off on a weekend or a tired that came from pulling an all-nighter. No, this was a bone deep tired, an aching sort of sense that leaves you floating, arms struggling, legs shaking. The tired that makes waking up in the morning harder and harder.

Tomorrow he’ll have been here for four weeks. A month. A proper month of reliving his life and he’s no closer to finding answers, not really. Ideas and possibilities, but no way to confirm, no way to know. And it is killing him, the uncertainty.

He thought it’d be more bearable with Hunk there. Hunk, who’d always understood Lance, sometimes even better than Lance understood himself. Who never judged. Who always had a shoulder to lean on, a kind word to say. Hunk, his best friend. Hunk, the one person Lance had never thought he’d lose even while fighting a war so much bigger than himself.

That night it had taken everything Lance had to not cry, to not throw up. He’d smiled for Hunk. He’d introduced himself, asked about Hunk’s life even though he knew his mother and his three brothers. Had been to his house, had helped him find his mother a birthday present. Hunk had been happy to answer, happy to make friends.

The next day Lance invited Hunk to sit with them at lunch. Keith had noticed and come over. Lance doesn’t know what he expected but when they caught each other’s eyes, Lance had shaken his head and Keith had nodded, solemn, understanding.

(Lance had lost a brother, but Keith had lost one too. Shiro… God, Lance didn’t even want to begin to think about Shiro. At least Lance’s mother still remembered him. And if he ignored her calls, then that was for him to know.)

So yes he has Hunk back in his life. Yes he gets to see him everyday, gets to joke with him, smile for him, gets to hear him interact with Shivanni and Aaron - two people Lance had never expected himself to befriend and yet there they were, so loyal and so kind despite what a mess Lance knows he looks like (knows he is). But it’s not the same. It’s not right.

Before, it had been Hunk and Lance against the world, making it through the Garrison and its many uphill battles one sure foot at a time.

Now it is Lance and Keith and Shivanni and Aaron and Hunk. Now it is Lance flying through his classes because he knows more than the instructors, has seen more than they ever will. Now it is Hunk, uncertain and yet excited to join their group, growing close to people he was never meant to meet. And Lance knows.

He knows he’ll never have that bond again.

If they can’t go back, if they’re stuck here reliving their lives then Lance knows he will never have that bond with Hunk again. Not now. Maybe when they return to space and they have no one but their second family, maybe then Lance will find his brother. But it’ll never be the same.

He steps into the classroom and smiles for Shivanni and Aaron and his classmates and his professor. And he tries not to think about it.

Focus on something else. Anything else.

Focus.

_ Focus _ .

.

It’s halfway through dinner and Hunk looks up at him, big brown eyes and that same smile, uncertain but there. “You need to try my food,” he says, as easy as breathing. “It’s way better than this cafeteria food. I can make shit that’ll make you cry.”

Lance laughs, breathless. Shivanni elbows him in the side. Keith is looking down, saying nothing. At least Shiro is only there in technical classes, at least Keith has that barrier between TA and student. At least Keith doesn’t have to relearn how it is to be friends with Shiro. “I bet it will.”

It’s halfway through dinner that Lance realizes he can’t do this anymore.

He excuses himself, claims tiredness, homework, and starts walking back towards the dorms before anyone can ask him if he’s okay. He goes to Keith’s. Because Keith has a single and Lance just… he just needs to be alone. The lock is oddly easy to pick. The lofted bed is a mess. Lance finds himself a corner amongst the clothes and pillows, curls up under the blankets, and cries himself to sleep.

.

Keith wakes him up trying to climb back into bed.

“Sorry,” Lance says before he can stop himself.

Keith shushes him, pushes him back down and fixes the covers so his feet don’t stick out. “It’s okay, Lance. Just rest. It’s going to be okay.”

And so Lance does.

.

It becomes a routine after that. Lance falling asleep in Keith’s bed on nights where it gets too hard, waking up to hearing him scream and curse at the disorder of his bedroom. Only a week there and it’s already more cluttered than Lance thought was possible.

“It’s easier to be neat with only three sets of clothes,” Keith complains at one point, sorting around for clean underwear. “And stop leaving your shit in my room.”

Aaron makes jokes about waiting for him to come home and Shivanni keeps teasing, insisting they’re secret lovers. Hunk gets into it at some point.

“Aw, you know I only have eyes for you, my Hunk-a-Hunk-a-burning-love,” Lance bats his eyelashes, leaning close.

.

Lance doesn’t know why he thought it wouldn’t come up.

“Your flight records are off the charts,” Commander Iverson compliments, taking a seat on the opposite side of the desk.

Lance tries not to look too nervous.

“And your placement scores seem to have done you an injustice.”

Lance shrugs, looking down. “I get nervous during tests.”

The Commander hums, taking a look at a few of the papers on the table. “It seems so. Based on your work alone we’d be moving you up, but for formality’s sake I will be scheduling you for another evaluation.”

“In all fairness, sir,” Lance starts, “I—”

“I know you’ve made friends, son,” Commander Iverson cuts him off, setting the papers down to look at Lance properly for the first time since stepping into the room. “But honestly, you’ll be wasted in the beginner class. Boredom has only ever led to disciplinary issues.”

Lance isn’t sure why, but it feels like a threat.

Commander Iverson smiles. Lance thinks it might be the first time he’s ever seen the Commander smile at him. “Between you and Kogane I imagine we’ve had the most talented class since the founding of this institution. You are dismissed, Cadet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the lack of update yesterday! I went to a party and when I came back I was too tired to write. That being said I really appreciate your patience and feedback. I hope you continue to enjoy the story. We're gonna start to hit some plot points soon. Just gotta finish introducing some characters. Get ready for your home boy Shiro!
> 
> ALSO! If you missed it, I am currently hosting a Voltron Big Bang called The Primary Big Bang. It is a bang that focuses on the bonds between Hunk, Keith, and Lance. These bonds can be romantic (Klance, Klunk, Heith, Hance/Lunk) or Gen. It is up to the creators! If you're interested, please check out our tumblr: voltronbigbang.tumblr.com and reblog to spread the word!
> 
> We are currently looking for mods (09/23/2016) and writer sign ups will start soon (10/01/2016).


	6. Six

Lance doesn't know what to do as he works through his days, mechanical in the routine the Garrison provides. Class. Eat. Sleep. Class. Eat. Sleep. Over and over. Time blurs and slows, drags on as they approach his testing date and he doesn't want it. He doesn't want to join the upper class, he doesn't want to leave them all behind. Would he still be paired with Hunk if he was in the higher class? With Pidge? What would happen to his budding relationship with Shivanni and Aaron? How would that change things? His relationship with Shiro? His relationship with Keith?

How much can they risk changing before they change too much? Will this have a butterfly effect? Are they risking the fate of the universe because Lance can't get his act together? 

He doesn't want this. He doesn't.

(But when has what he wanted ever really mattered?)

So he gets up, goes to class, and does what little he needs to. Eats when he's told, sleeps when he can. His skin care routine falls apart, the bottles still sitting in a bag he has yet to unpack. The number of unheard voicemails and unread texts begin to pile and missed calls wake him every morning and it's all he can do to keep from chucking his phone out the window. The dark circles are slowly becoming more and more prominent. 

One night, he just can't sleep, sitting up and scrolling through the internet as Aaron dozes across the room, slow breathing almost peaceful in the quiet of their dark room. He stumbles into class the next day and nearly crashes the simulator, pulling up just at the last second to cruise to the pick up point. When he stumbles out, his team equally rattled, he's breathing hard and shaking, hair a mess, eyes barely staying open.

His classmates begin to whisper. His teachers begin to whisper. His friends only worry.

Lance wants to crawl out of his skin.  

.

Lance starts visiting Keith's room less and less. He's seen the dark circles under Keith's eyes, the way his hands shake when he thinks Lance isn't looking. Lance can't bother him with this, won't bother him with this... this downward spiral.... 

It's not right. Lance won't be a burden again. Useless. An annoyance. Something to tolerate when Keith is struggling too. 

It's better this way, giving them both space until Lance can make a decision, get his head on right, focus on the mission. 

He just needs to sleep, then he can focus again. 

He's a Paladin of Voltron.

He just needs to focus. 

_ Focus _ .

.

He crashes the simulator. When he wakes up in the infirmary, it's to Shivanni crying. 

Apparently, he took a nosedive. Lance doesn't remember.

.

It's Aaron who intervenes. 

(Lance wishes it was Hunk. Once it would have been Hunk.)

The others, Keith and Hunk and Shivanni, they don't know what to say to him, how to approach him. They give him space because Lance won't let them do anything else. He doesn't want to talk about it. 

What could he say anyway?

Three nights later, as Lance gets ready for bed by throwing on a random pair of pajamas and debating the merit of crawling to the bathroom to wash his face, Aaron pulls him into a hug. Lance freezes. "Aaron?"

"Hey, Lance," he whispers, pulling Lance close enough so his face is buried in the space between Aaron's shoulder and neck and this is the first time Lance realizes Aaron is a good head taller than him. He takes a deep breath and pulls back so he can look Lance in the eye. “I want to help you.”

There is kindness in his eyes, so young and innocent and full of promise. It takes Lance’s breath away. Because they barely know each other, less than two weeks and Lance knows he’s been a mess for most of it, knows he’s not the best person to be around, doesn’t understand why Aaron hasn’t left for greener pastures. And in that moment, as his eyes begin to tear even though the last thing he wants to do is cry, Lance promises he will help Aaron achieve his dreams. He doesn’t know why Aaron left last time, but he won’t let it happen again. He swears he won’t. His chest hurts. “I--,” Lance starts. Squeezing his eyes shut to stop the tears, “I don’t—.”

“Hey,” Aaron shushes, pulling him to Aaron’s bed so they can sit. “Let it out, Lance. Mum always says you feel better after a cry.”

And Lance sobs around a laugh, trying not to think of his mother and all her missed calls. “I don’t… I don’t want to move up,” he finally gets out,e stammering, trying to explain why. Trying to explain without giving everything away about why he doesn’t want to leave everyone behind. But… but if he’s being honest that’s not the root of it, leaving Hunk and Aaron and Shivanni; Keith isn’t in their class but they eat lunch together. It’s not just that… “I’m tired of not having control of my life,” Lance admits, a weight he doesn’t know he had lifting from his shoulders as he let’s out another sob. “I’m so tired, Aaron. M’ tired all the fucking time.”

“I know,” Aaron says even though he doesn’t because how could he? He’s a child. He’s so young, he has so much promise and here Lance is being a burden. Again. Always a bother, always a burden; an annoyance. Keith would be better off with one of the others. Pidge would know what to do. Hunk would be able to adapt. Shiro... God, Lance would give anything for Shiro to take his place. He could help Keith, he would know how to be better than... than this. As if Lance's pain is anything in comparison to the horrors Shiro has endured. How could he stay in control when all Lance wants to do is fall apart?

He's sobbing. Snot and tears and gross, choking noises--the full works. Aaron stays through it all, rubbing his back, whispering kind words and promises until it's over and Lance can't make any more tears, doesn't know how. "Sorry," he says because it's near midnight and Aaron has better things to do than this, should be sleeping because he's just a child and Lance is a grown man and should be better than this. 

"Lance," Aaron starts when Lance has calmed down enough. "Have you considered counseling?"

Lance laughs, bitter. What could he tell a therapist? "God no," Lance shakes his head, "God nonononononono. No."

"Then have you at least talked to Keith?" Aaron presses. There's something there. The kid is a poor liar and there's a certain knowing tilt/look in his expression like he knows Lance hasn't, like he knows something Lance doesn't.

"I don't want to be a burden," Lance admits, wiping away the last of the wetness from his cheeks with the back of his hand. "I can't bother Keith with this."

"You'd be surprised," Aaron smiles softly.

"I'd be surprised?" Lance echoes.

Aaron nods, "Talk to him Lance. Promise me you'll at least talk to Keith?"

Lance doesn't know what to say. He promises but he doesn't know if he means it. Not yet. Not like this, worn out and feeling so very, very weak. Keith deserve better than this. God, Keith deserves so much more than this.

He spends the night in Aaron's bed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I am trying to do daily edits. I will get better at this! Hope you guys are enjoying the story. This one was an interesting one. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think! 
> 
> And hit me up at my tumblr: queenmogar117.tumblr.com


	7. Interlude: Meeting Aaron and Shivanni (Art)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not a real chapter! Just art for the story.

I wanted to share the character designs I have for Shivanni and Aaron. Let me know what you think! ^u^ 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your continued support and feedback on this story. Reading your comments honestly makes my day!
> 
> EDIT: [ Like my art? Well I started a cool new art blog. Consider checking it out and hitting that follow button! Thx!! ](http://thequeen117.tumblr.com/)


	8. Seven

It's harder than he thought, trying to keep his word. His tongue sits dry and heavy in his mouth whenever he thinks about approaching Keith alone. What would he say that didn't sound weak? What could he say that didn't sound like an excuse? Yes, Keith is the only one who could understand and the only one Lance can speak freely with, but that only means Keith has his own worries, his own losses to mourn. Lance lost Hunk. Keith lost Shiro. At least Lance has his family, right? Even if he can't answer their calls, who is he to complain? Keith doesn't deserve to shoulder his mess.

So maybe, instead of talking to Keith like Aaron had suggested, Lance begins avoiding him. 

Nothing too obvious. It's easy to avoid someone in a school this big, to keep his head down and pretend he doesn't hear Keith call for him in the halls, easy to sit next to someone else during lunch. Easy to climb into Aaron's bed when the nights became too hard to bear instead of making his way to Keith’s. And if he feels eyes follow him from class to class then Lance does his best to ignore it--the weight of Keith's gaze. Keith, whose dark circles only grow as his frown becomes more and more common, slowly losing the easy smile Lance has grown used to during their time in space.

Sometimes he will catch Aaron share a careful look with Hunk across the lunch table and Lance will feel so very small. 

The week gives way to another and his reevaluation is scheduled for the coming Friday. Lance keeps his head down.

.

He dreams of Haggar's nails on his cheek and her words in his ear. "What do you have left that I cannot take?" she promises, all oil and slime. The walls are a deep maroon, illumination coming from a single purple light in the ceiling. The straps on his arms dig into his skin. "What do you have that I cannot break?"

He screams as the blade cuts in. And then there is Aaron tells him “it's going to be okay. It's just a dream, Lance. Shhh. Shhhh. It's going to be okay..."

Lance sobs, clinging to Aaron’s shirt.

.

So busy avoiding Keith, it takes Lance too long to realize Shivanni is avoiding him. Not until he walks into study hall to see she's secluded herself away in one of the private cubicle instead of waiting for Lance at their table. Not until he notices she never looks him the eye and always talks to him through someone else. 

Finally she slips up. It's not a long wait. She's fifteen and he's patient. He finds her outside (or what is as outside here as the Garrison gets with their regulated greenhouses and sun rooms made to mimic lusher climates than the Nevada desert would normally allow) on a park bench, probably studying. He wastes no time sitting next to her. 

"Hi," he says, grabbing her attention and tries to ignore the way she tenses, the grip on her book tightening.

It takes a moment. "Hi, Lance." Her voice is quiet and careful like she's trying not to disturb the leaves. 

Lance doesn't recognize this greenhouse, he never went to it during his first time here. It's simpler than the others and, in turn, almost empty--pines and ferns and the normal sort of flora and fauna. Deer and chipmunks and butterflies. It is nothing compared to the exotic frogs or birds that the other greenhouses had, the more tropical ones that Lance had always enjoyed more. But... he looks up to see that some of the leaves on the trees he cannot name are changing color. Fall is coming. 

"Do you come here often?" he asks. 

There is another pause and then the book closes. He looks at her from the corner of his eye. "Yeah," she smiles. "It's fall in Jersey and my sister said the local Farm Harvest festival is coming up. It's the first year I'll be missing it."

"I'm sorry..." he trails off, because what else can Lance say? There's no real cure for homesickness, just distractions. He would know, wouldn't he? Here he is, after all, missing two homes. "I've never been to a Farm Harvest, but my family always throws the best bonfires this time of year."

She hums. "That sounds fun."

He nods.

They fall silent.

Somewhere in the distance, Lance spies a deer staring back, its antlers foreboding. Finally, he clears his throat. "I'm sorry."

She makes a surprised noise. 

"I...I admit I don't know what I did, but I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable," he says because it's the only thing he can think of that would not make her run away. He's never seen her angry, not yet, but she doesn't strike him as someone who sits quietly when angry, not with how confident she is in class or the way she inserts herself into conversations at lunch, even with complete strangers. Her presence is demanding. But discomfort? Maybe that is enough to make her turn and run. "I'd like to make things better between us."

She laughs but it doesn't sound like a real one. It sounds almost bitter. "It's not your fault."

"You're avoiding me," Lance points out because he's old enough to know the best way to handle these conversations for all that he himself is a hypocrite. "It must be at least a little my fault."

"No," she says, insistent, "it isn't. Because I know it's not your fault and that you can't help it and that it's a disease. And I know I should be better than this, but..." and she sniffles and it shocks him, catches him off guard so he can do nothing but stare as she fights back tears. "But I'm so scared and that's not fair to you. You need us to be strong. You need us to be there for you and I can't... God," she wipes her nose with the back of her hand and scrunches her face in disgust. 

"Shivanni..."

She takes a deep, stuttering breath, "My sister has depression, too... And it was bad. For a long time. And I didn't know how to handle it so I ran away. And she got worse and I couldn't... I was so scared and I couldn't..." And Lance moves. Wraps her up in his best big brother hug and holds her close. "And when you... you crashed the simulator... I just saw her...."

"I didn't mean to crash the simulator," Lance defends, breathless as his thoughts run a million miles an hour realizing what it must have looked like. The ace pilot of their class taking a nosedive during a basic run, the way his team couldn't look him in the eye, the worry on everyone's faces. "I haven't been sleeping. I...I blacked out."

Shivanni shook her head, pushed him away. "Lance..."

"No, I didn't..." Lance tries to control his breathing, "I...I don't think I..." And he knows he hasn't been sleeping, knows he wasn't at his best when he'd stepped into that machine. If it had been a real plane it would have been nothing short of suicide. And god... he knows he's a mess, but he hadn't realized how much... Depression? Is that what this is? He grabs Shivanni's hand, grounding himself, reminding himself why he's here. This isn't about him. 

_ Focus _ .

"It isn't your job to take care of me," he settles on. Looking her in the eye. "You are not a counselor. It is not your job to take care of me...or your sister, okay?" 

She looks away. "I want to help you, Lance." She squares her shoulders and looks back. "We're family here. And I know we haven't known each other that long, but it doesn't feel like it. I'm going to help you. And so is Aaron and Hunk and... and especially Keith, okay? I'm not going to make the same mistakes again."

"Shivanni... it's not your job," he repeats, trying to reason.

"I know," but it doesn't sound like she does, not really. "I know it isn't my job, Lance. But I care about you. And I was scared, but I'm going to get over it. You need me. Keith needs me..."

"Keith?" Lance asks feeling overwhelmed and confused and grateful, so very grateful even as he worries. This isn't her’s to bear, this isn't any of theirs. And yet... and yet here they were. Aaron letting him sleep his bed, waking him from nightmares, telling him it's going to be okay. Shivanni battling her fears so she can help him in any way she can. It's too much. It's far too much. He doesn’t deserve it. And now Keith... 

"I'm going to get better," she says, suddenly, standing. "And so are you." Lance blinks up at her, eyes wide, as she collects her things and then grabs his hand. "Come on, Lance." And she's grinning, all sharp teeth and bright, slightly red eyes--a clear sign she's been crying. "We're going to the counselor."

.

Trying to stop Shivanni, Lance quickly realizes, is like trying to stop a hurricane. He shares this fact with Aaron as they walk out of PE, done with classes for the day. "I have a meeting with a counselor scheduled for next Thursday," he shrugs, looking down at his feet. "I don't...I don't really want to go."

Aaron  shrugs. They're heading to their dorm to study. Of their group only Lance and Aaron elected for Basic Med this semester and they have their first quiz coming up. Med had never been a class Lance had excelled at, but he remembers doing well enough. Unfortunately, the information hadn't seemed to stick. "I think it'll be good for you,” Aaron says. “Talking to someone."

"I've really been worrying everyone," Lance admits, jumping the last three steps to land hard. 

Aaron's smile turns a little sad. "We care about you, Lance."

"Yeah, everyone's been saying that," Lance sighs. 

"Have you talked to, Keith?" Aaron asks. 

Lance shakes his head, feeling guilty. "I don't want to-"

"Burden him, I know." Aaron cuts him off. "But have you considered that maybe he's worried about you too?"

Lance scowls. 

"Hunk says he hasn't been sleeping well," Aaron offers. "Just... just try, Lance? For me? I really think it would help you two."

.

At one point, Lance passes Keith in the hallway to see him just standing there, staring at the ground, shoulder’s hunched, back tense.

Lance swallows hard.

He misses Keith.

.

That's how Lance finds himself hovering outside of Keith's dorm room, fist raised and yet terrified to knock. He sighs. When had it gotten so hard to talk to one of his closest friends?  _ Probably around the same time it got impossible to talk to my mother _ , Lance thinks darkly as his phone begins to ring. Finally he can't take it anymore. When had he become like this? Indecisive? Cowardly? 

"Aaron says this could help both of us," Lance reminds himself under his breath, knocking three times. "Don't chicken out now, Lance. You've run into enemy warships guns blazing, this should be nothing. This is nothing."

It doesn't feel like nothing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your feedback! I really hope you guys like this chapter. We're getting to one of the first turning points of the story! 
> 
> ALSO! You guys might know I'm running a Voltron Big Bang called The Primary Big Bang! Well, writing sign ups open tomorrow so if you're interested in the challenge of writing a 10k+ fanfic dedicated to one or more of our favorite Primary Paladins then head on over to voltronbigbang.tumblr.com and sign up!


	9. Eight

Lance is surprised by how little time it takes Keith to open the door, hair wild, dark circles worse than before, and uniform wrinkled. Lance is afraid he woke Keith up. "Um... Is this a bad time?"

Keith stares at him, eyes wide. Slowly he shakes his head, gestures for Lance to come in as he closes the door. It’s messier than Lance remembers which, he admits, is hard to imagine. But the take out containers explain how easy it was to avoid Keith during dinner and Lance feels awful for not noticing.

Once Keith is done locking the door (and Lance is pretty sure the bolt lock isn’t Garrison issue), he turns to stare at Lance as Lance stands, pathetic and lost, in the center of the room. “Um…”

Lance tries to smile.

Keith blinks, once. Twice. Shakes his head and clears his throat. “Right. Right! I’ll um…” he grabs an arm full of clothes off the bed and sets it on his desk and he’s blushing, ears red. “You can sit… If you want you can, I mean… yeah.”

Lance nods, lifts himself onto the bed and toes his shoes off so he can sit curled up in the corner, back against the wall like he did before he started avoiding Keith like he was Patient Zero. When Keith takes too long, just staring up at Lance with that same wide-eyed expression, Lance feels his face grow hot and pats the area next to him.

It takes a moment for Keith to comply.

After a moment of sitting in silence, unable to look each other in the eye, Lance takes a deep breath and decides to man up. This is his mess, after all. “I’m sorry,” he starts because he is. God, he is, but he pushes his feelings away because right now isn’t about him. It isn’t. “I...It isn’t excusable, but I’m sorry for avoiding you.”

Keith laughs, humorless, and Lance watches as he picks at his nails, seemingly easier to stare at his hands then Lance’s face. “Well… at least you can admit it.”

Lance nods, looking down at his feet, toes just hanging off the bed. “I haven’t been handling things well.”

There’s a moment of silence and then a snort, sharp and bitter. “And what,” (and there it is, the anger Lance expected. The anger he deserves. Lance braces himself) “I have? Cause, oh yeah, I’ve been great, Lance, settling in like nothing is fucking wrong.” And there’s an edge to his voice, rage and bitterness, mostly, but self-deprecation too and that’s not fair. Keith doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t. “I mean look at m-me,” Keith laughs, “I’m handling thi-ings great.” He sniffles, rubbing at his cheeks. “Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck, Lance. God damn it.”

“I know,” Lance says because he doesn’t know what else to say. What else can he say? “I’m… I’m really sorry, Keith.”

Keith nods, a hand covering his eyes as he fights back tears. And Lance wants to do something, anything. Hug him. Hold him. Tell him it’s going to be okay. But that isn’t what Keith would want. So Lance settles on letting their knees touch and waits for a sign as Keith struggles to get his breathing under control.

There’s a moment of silence only punctured by sharp breaths and sniffles. “You’re all I have left, Lance.” Keith’s voice is heavy with unshed tears.  And Lance can’t take it anymore. He reaches out and holds Keith’s hand as he finally, finally looks in Keith’s eyes, wet and shining and ringed in black. His cheeks are red, lips trembling before Keith finally sobs. “God, Lance. You’re all I have fucking left.”

Lance’s chest tightens, heart sinking. And he deserves this guilt and regret. He deserves this. Just look at what he’s done. “I’m sorry, Keith,” Lance whispers and repeats. “M’ so fuckin’ sorry.” He pulls Keith close as Keith cries, snot and tears making his shirt wet. But that doesn’t matter as he rubs soothing circles on Keith’s shoulder. “You’re all I have, too.”

Keith shakes his head, still struggling to control himself, to control his breathing and his tears. Lance wants to tell him to just let go, to just cry, but he knows that’s not how Keith works. Keith won’t allow it until he can’t help it. And so Lance will wait him out, like always.

(And how many times have they done this? Curled together in the infirmary, waiting for Hunk or Shiro or Pidge to step out of the healing pod, whole and healthy. Or sitting close in the back of a bar as they mourn the loss of another planet, another resistance. Keith and Lance. Red and Blue. How could Lance have forgotten? How could Lance have made this mistake?)

“Y-you have them,” Keith says, voice so quiet that Lance has to struggle to hear. “Shivanni and Aaron and Hunk and you’re family. You don’t need me.”

Oh no. “Nononononono,” Lance chants, running fingers through Keith’s hair. “God, no.” Lance laughs, bitter. “Of course I do. God. It’s you who doesn’t need me.”

Keith pulls away, disbelief coloring his face. “Oh yeah,” he jokes, waving a hand through the room. “M’ doing just fine.”

Lance scowls. “Not like that, not…” and he bites his lip. “I wish I was Shiro. Or Pidge. Or Hunk. Someone useful. Someone who could… fix this and help you and not be this,” he waves his free hand, the other wrapped around Keith. “I’m a mess, Keith. Shivanni says I might have depression.”

“Anxiety.”

“What?” Lance asks.

Keith looks away, “Hunk says I have anxiety. I can’t sleep right unless I know you’re okay and I keep having these stupid…” he scowls staring down at his fists. “Panic attacks.”

Lance reaches up to wipe the remaining tears from Keith’s cheeks. “I had no idea,” he whispers.

“Yeah well…” Keith shrugs, again, “You haven’t really been here.”

Lance’s chest tightens further. 

“No wait, I,” Keith rushes. 

Lance shakes his head.“No, that’s fair,” Lance tries to smile. “I left you to deal with this on your own because I didn’t want you to deal with my mess. And instead I left you all alone.” He sighs. “God, M’ so selfish, Keith. Can you please forgive me?”

Keith shrugs. “Yeah.” But Lance isn’t sure if he’s telling the truth and he has a feeling neither does Keith. “Just… just don’t do it again.” He leans forward to press his face against Lance’s shoulder. “Please.”

“I promise, Keith.” And Lance means it. He really, really does. “Never again.”

“We’ll figure this out together,” Keith breathes, voice low. He goes boneless against Lance and Lance shifts to comfortably hold his weight. “We’ll get through this together.”

Yes they will. Lance won’t forget again. He’ll do better. For Keith, he’ll get better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOO!! They finally talked to each other. I tried to keep this as realistic as possible. Did it work? What do you guys think? Thanks as always for the feedback!
> 
>  
> 
> [Writing Sign Ups for the Voltron Big Bang I'm working on have opened. Please sign up if you're interested!](http://voltronbigbang.tumblr.com/)


	10. Nine

Lance, in all the confusion and fear, had forgotten how much he had missed Keith during his time avoiding him. How much he missed his easy smiles and comforting presence, the familiar ease of their bickering, the fun they had during downtime between missions and laying low from the Galra to avoid attracting attention to the resistance and the free planets that housed them. But now here he is, between classes and in the cafeteria, sitting by Keith’s side. 

It's like taking a breath of fresh air. 

The day after their talk, Lance walked to breakfast with Keith. Aaron had shot him a smug smirk while Shivanni had just smiled, satisfied. Hunk, though, had looked relieved and Lance was reminded of what Keith had said: "Hunk says I have anxiety," and Lance has to wonder how close they've gotten while Lance wasn't looking as Keith easily leans forward to steal a few potato rounds from Hunk's plate (much to Hunk's protest). That bitter spark of jealousy, the feeling that has always, always threatened his steady ground with Keith, rears its head for just a moment before Lance beats it down into submission. 

Of course, they're allowed to get close. After three years in space, Keith and Hunk had become close, the best of friends bonding over their love for classic hovercrafts and children's cartoons. Lance was happy for Keith, in fact, happy that he'd had someone while Lance had been lost in his own head. He deserved to have friends, of course he did. 

(And Lance isn't going to entertain any other thought. The feeling of guilt, the memories of Keith's tears, wraps tight around his heart.)

.

It's during lunch that day as Keith and Lance argue over the perfection that was pumpkin flavored everything (clearly, pumpkin was a gift to this world and deserved to be treasured. Not that it surprised Lance that Keith's opinion differed. Keith was often wrong about the simple things in life), as Shivanni eggs them on with the casual reminder of how pumpkin spice was inherently different from pumpkin itself and Hunk, precious Hunk, attempts to play mediator by pointing out that some pumpkin flavored things tasted better than others, that Aaron reminds Lance, "Hey, when is your reevaluation coming up?"

"Uh..." Lance frowns, opening up the calendar on his Garrison issued tablet to check, "Tomorrow at nine AM, why?"

Aaron nods, turning on his own tablet, "I gotta remember to set an alarm to wake your lazy ass up."

Lance makes a vaguely hurt noise. "I'm not that bad."

"The only time you wake up is for morning roll call and that's a miracle, dude," Aaron points out. "Yu has no idea how awful you are."

Lance shrugs, "That's just cause I'm awesome," he teases as Keith snorts into his coffee. Lance jabs him in the side without missing a beat to hear Keith shriek, ticklish as always.

Keith glares.

Lance sticks out his tongue.

"What reevaluation?" Hunk breaks in.

Keith blinks, "Oh yeah... getting kicked out of the Garrison, already McClain?" Keith jokes.

"What? No," Shivanni laughs, "Our boy Lance is moving up! He's gonna be in your class, Keith!"

Lance blushes, "Let's not get ahead of ourselves..."

"With your test scores, you're a shoe in for number one," Aaron grins, "Top of our class. Iverson is promoting him personally."

Lance stares down at the table as his ears burn red.  _ They're acting like I'm their son and their my proud parents _ , Lance muses, hand subconsciously gripping his phone tighter.  _ Not that they should. I'm cheating, anyway _ . 

"Coming for my spot?" And that's not the reaction Lance expects from Keith as he looks up to see Keith beaming, eye's wide and smile far too big. "I'd like to see you try!"

Lance grins, unsure. "Ah, Mullet Man. We already know I can outfly you any day." It's an empty brag. They both know that. Red has always been more agile, more assured. Blue is support. A leg of Voltron. Meant to adapt as needed for the team and the mission. If Keith is their ace than Lance is their safe shot. He's made peace with that. It's taken a long time, a lot of long nights of regret and worry and fear of never been good enough, to take if not pride then perhaps satisfaction in being support. 

'We'll see, Lance," Keith grins, fire in his eyes at Lance's unspoken challenge. A fire that Lance can't help but echo even if he already knows the outcome. "We'll see."

.

"I'm really happy for you two," Aaron confesses as they make their way to afternoon sessions. Shivanni having stayed behind to talk to Hunk about a shared project. 

Lance smiles, "Yeah... me too."

.

That night, Lance sneaks off to Keith's room, punching in the familiar the code only to be stopped by the deadbolt. It only takes a moment for Keith to let him in. "Sorry," he says, cheeks red. "I'll stop doing that."

"Why do you have it?" Lance asks, stepping in and toeing off his shoes before throwing his bag on the floor. He won't be sleeping here. Yu will be escorting him to the simulator tomorrow morning and will be expecting Lance to be in his room. "I don't think we're allowed to drill holes into our room."

Keith looks down and shrugs before mumbling something.

"What?"

"The castle was more secure," Keith mumbles again, this time a little louder. "It... without you here it just feels... safer."

_ Oh, Keith... _

"It's stupid," Keith adds, tone dark, "It's... This is the Garrison. It's not like I have to worry about Zarkon breaking down my door, but..."

"No," Lance nods, "I understand." And he means it. His nightmares haven't gone away and neither have his fears. They won't until Haggar is dead. 

Keith looks up at him, eyes wide before he smiles, tentative. "Thanks."

Lance just smiles. 

Sitting on Keith's bed, doing homework and enjoying each other's company is not something the original fifteen-year-old Lance could have imagined, but there were a lot of things about Lance's life that he could never have imagined in his wildest daydreams. Now it just felt comfortable, familiar. Like being wrapped in his favorite blanket. Their legs thrown haphazardly together on the narrow twin as Lance rests against the wall, tablet balanced on his knees. Keith is propped on his million pillows, toes wiggling against his calf every now and again to get his attention. Halfway through his physics homework, Keith speaks up, "I'm excited to have you in my class."

Lance looks up, "Oh?"

Keith nods, smile small. "It'll be good to fly with you again."

And _ oh... _ Lance hadn't thought about that. Hadn't even considered. "Yeah," he breathes. "Yeah, it will be."

.

Yu has become a familiar face in Lance's life. Where before the professors had blurred together, with the exception of Iverson whose scowl and single eye would haunt Lance in his milder dreams, Yu was now a stand-out character. Young--only twenty one, he was new to the job and not yet used to treating the cadets as anything other than friends. That must have been why he was put on morning roll call; it's hard to be angry at someone who means so well.

"Are you excited?" Yu chatters, voice easy to listen to in the early morning as Lance half-drags his feet, rubbing the crust out of his eyes. His hair is in need of a wash, he notes absently, and his skin is dry. His mind wanders to the still unopened skin care bottles in his bag and thinks about treating himself, Aaron, Keith, and Shivanni to a spa day. 

_ And Hunk _ , he adds suddenly very awake. How could he forget about Hunk? A good seaweed peel would do his friend a world of wonder, just like always. "Uh... yeah," Lance nods, standing a big straighter. "Nervous too."

At Yu's curious look Lance adds, "I'm not good at tests."

"That's okay," Yu grins, "Don't think of it like a test. Remember. You're flying. There's nothing better than that."

Lance hums in agreement. No there really wasn't. 

.

Stepping out of the simulator is like waking up from a really good dream. The silence leaves him wavering. The looks leave him terrified. His knees shake. His heart hammers less from adrenaline and more from fear as he starts chewing on his lip. Did he fail? He doesn't think so. He hadn't crashed. He hadn't made too many mistakes. Maybe he should have taken a wider turn around that glacier or dropped lower under that overpass... 

What would Keith say if he didn't pass? He remember show excited he'd been last night at just the thought of Lance being in the same class as him. Now what is he going to say?  _ Sorry, Keith, I couldn't give you this one thing after leaving you alone for so long? Sorry, I fucked up. Sorry I'm such a screw up _ ?

Lance can feel the tears starting to build up in the corner of his eye as he fights to move his legs and approach his testers: Iverson,  Professor Sutherland, and Commander Miranda. They're whispering to each other now, furious and wide eyed as Lance stands at attention, fighting to keep still. What did he do wrong? Couldn't they just fail him already?

Finally (finally) Iverson smiles that same smile he'd given Lance in his office two weeks ago. "I told you he was a good bet." Iverson turns to Lance, "Good job, son."

Lance fights down the urge to scream in relief. His knees feel weak. 

Professor Sutherland nods her head. "It was an impressive performance. As good as Kogane's..."

Commander Miranda snorts, "Better, I argue. You ever flown before taking this program, boy?"

Lance shakes his head, "No, sir. But, um... I read a lot, sir." It is a lie, of course. But it's the only thing that makes sense. 

Commander Miranda laughs. "He reads a lot, Iverson. You hear that? I'd say you and Kogane fly like seasoned pilots. Hell, at this rate they'll beat Shirogane's record."

Professor Sutherland huffs, eye's narrowing to stare at Lance. "I doubt it. But there is potential. We'll be discussing your performance further before deciding which class to place you in."

Lance knows a dismissal when he wears one and salutes before taking his leave. As the door closes behind him, he hears Iverson speak up. "What more is there to discuss, professor?" Lance breaks out into a run. He needs to tell Keith the good news. 

_ I did it! _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So update!! Sorry for the delay. I'm trying to work on a few stories as well as my Voltron Big Bang story. But I haven't forgotten about this. I really love this story and I'm having too much fun writing it to stop. I hope you guys are enjoying this. 
> 
> Also, warning. I feel like I've hinted at it enough to not need to put a warning in the tags, but I'll add one here. We're going to get into some heavy stuff in the next few chapters about Lance's time imprisoned by the Galra and what he endured. As such there might be some gore in the later chapters (not a lot, of course. I hate writing that stuff.) How do you guys want me to warn you about those sections? Should I bold some text? Or have a line break? Let me know what you think in the comments below. 
> 
> And as always, thank you so much for reading. I really appreciate all the great feedback you guys give me. Seriously, your comments make my week!


	11. Ten

That Monday Lance wakes up early to watch the sunrise. There is an itch just under his skin, a buzz of excitement leaving him restless. First day of classes in the Fighter Class. First day of classes with Keith.

“Morning,” Lance half-whispers when Aaron sits up to shut off the alarm. He’s still wearing PJ’s, sitting at his desk and staring out at the sun. They have another hour before roll call and Lance isn’t sure what to do.

Aaron yawns, “Mornin’.”

He stretches out his legs, toes brushing against the suitcase he has propped up against the wall and hums. It’s about time he unpacked it, right? Inside are three months’ worth of skin supplies--face wash, packs, and moisturizers; fancy hair shampoo instead of the watery goop the Garrison supplies; conditioner because his hair has become dry and brittle after three weeks without; sunscreen because everyone knew the best way to avoid wrinkles was to wear sunscreen; and some basic make up for the blemishes that had plagued Lance through middle school. He thought of Shiro and considered investing in eyeliner as he grabbed an unopened bottle of Green Tea face wash, cleanser, and moisturizer. “I’ll be back,” Lance said, continuing to whisper as he walks out of their dorm room.

The bathroom is only a few doors down. It’s quiet. Nobody is really awake, still sleeping off Sunday night or avoiding Monday morning. Lance likes it. The quiet is peaceful

Washing his face, cleansing his face, moisturizing, it makes him feel fresh in a way he hasn’t in a long time. Clean. He rubs in the last of the cream and wonders if his skin is really glowing like that or if it’s just the lighting. He does have a few pimples. Days of just splashing water on his face was bound to catch up with him and that, on top of the stress, leaves him with an annoying amount of breakouts on his right cheek that he pokes at with a frown. But it could have been worse, he remembers his acne used to have. Content, he lets his thoughts wander as he finishes his morning routine by brushing his teeth and fixing his hair. He wonders what class will be like, if he’ll be able to sit next to Keith. Will he see Shiro?

(He hopes so. He…he misses Shiro in a different way than he misses Hunk or Pidge. Shiro was always his leader before he was his friend, but that didn’t mean as much as one would think after living together for three years. He misses their late night talks and their late night walks, the way Shiro knew how to pull Lance out of a funk and how Lance knew he could help Shiro in the aftermath of a nightmare.

In battle they had been formidable. Shiro, a close-combat, hand-to-hand fighter, and Lance, a range shooter able to lay down covering fire and taking out anyone who got to close while Shiro was occupied. They’d taken a fair amount of ships in their name and teamed up often. Maybe not as often as Lance and Keith, but often enough.

He had often wondered what Shiro was like pre-Kerberos. He supposes now he’ll know.)

Aaron is awake and changed when Lance gets back. He’s styled his hair today, like he did before, parted in the middle so his bangs fall, loose and just this side of stylishly messy, to frame his face.

“You look nice,” Aaron compliments as Lance finishes rubbing sunscreen in and starts contemplating foundation. “Trying to impress anyone?”

“Hm?” Lance hums distractedly as he checks the foundation color. He hasn’t gotten enough sun these past three weeks for all that he lives in the desert. Maybe he’ll go for a walk today, bring Aaron or Keith? The three of them never hang out enough, always caught between classes and homework. His hair is still dry though. Would Shivanni like to have a spa day? Did he pack any deep conditioner?

“Keith, maybe?” Aaron teases and Lance blushes, realizing what he’s getting at.

“No!” Lance squeaks, and even he knows he’s being too defensive. “We… we’re not like that!”

“Yet,”  Aaron smirks..

Lance pouts. “We are  _ not _ !” He sets the foundation down. He is not trying to impress Keith, he doesn’t have to. Keith has seen him at his worst: () Covered in blood and tears, half-starved and clinging with torn fingers once they finally manage to get the shackles off even though he knows his wrists are broken; screaming when he tries to stand on broken knees; screaming when Keith tries to step away to fight because they’re not safe yet, never safe. Not when he can see eyes just in the corner, just out of reach. Yellow and watching. Watching with that smile… ()

“-nce. Lance!” Aaron snaps,

“Fuck,” Lance snaps, pushing Aaron away, blinking rapidly. “Fuck. Sorry, dude.”

“You okay?” Aaron presses, taking a step back to give Lance space.

Lance takes a few deep breath until it doesn’t feel like his heart is trying to beat it’s way out of his chest. “Sorry… I- Sorry. I went away there.”

“Did I say something?” Aaron asks, regret thick.

Lance shakes his head. “Nononono, dude. No. God you’re great. I just… get lost in my head sometimes. M’ Sorry.”

Aaron nods and Lance smiles, trying for reassuring and just hoping it looks sincere “I promise.” He holds out a pinky finger like he would with his sister. “You did nothing wrong.”

Aaron frowns, but accepts the pinky, “Can’t go breaking a pinky promise,” he reminds him and Lance laughs.

“Have to break my pinky if I did,” Lance swears.

.

After breakfast, for the first time, Lance waves goodbye to Aaron and Shivanni whose classes are on the north quad. “Maybe now the rest of us have a chance,” Shivanni teases as she brings him in close for a hug.

Lance grins and squeezes her just a little harder before letting go. “We all know you can kick my ass any day, Dugar.”

Shivanni laughs, “Don’t you fuckin’ forget it, McClain!”

Walking with Hunk and Keith is different, less intimate even as Keith does his best to keep the silence from being awkward, walking in the middle and providing, in a strangely un-Keith move, a steady stream of chatter that Lance works to keep up with. And it strikes Lance as he glances at Hunk every now and then how little he’s hung out with the person he still considers his best friend. Hunk doesn’t know him, Lance knows this. But what does he know about this Hunk? How much of what he does remember about fifteen-year-old Hunk is true? Like with Aaron, was he making mistakes? Was his memory blurry with the knowledge of who Hunk would become: strong and patient and righteous and brave? Probably.

It would make sense if he did…

“We should hang out sometime,” Lance suggests during a lull in conversation, looking at Hunk.

Hunk turns to face him, startled. Lance feels Keith brush softly against his arm and finds his courage. “We don’t hang out enough,” Lance continues. “Like outside of lunch.”

Keith nods, “Maybe we should hit the town this weekend.”

Hunk frowns, “Uh… Isn’t that against the rules?”

Lance grins and shares a meaningful look with Keith over the very Hunk-like response. “Isn’t that half the fun?”

.

“You guys get the simulators first!” Lance cheers as he steps into the room with Keith, practically vibrating in anticipation. Flying! First thing the morning?! God the fighter class got all the perks.

Keith grins, “Calm down there, dude. Don’t wanna look like a total green thumb do you?”

Lance freezes, surveying the room to see a variety of upperclassman staring at him. “Oh my god. Why are they looking at me?”

“We’re freshman,” Keith says as he steps forward with an unnecessary amount of ease that Lance desperately attempts to emulate even as he half-hides behind Keith to avoid the stares that were slowly turning into glares. “They’re jealous.”

“I don’t want them to be jealous,” Lance hisses, grabbing Keith’s hand for courage. “I just wanna fly.”

Keith looks at him with a single raised eyebrow, smirking. “I know. But that doesn’t mean we don’t have to blow them out of the water.”

Lance hums, unsure, as they come to a still near the front of the class, the stares like static shocks along his spine. Iverson steps forward.

“All right, Cadets,” Iverson barks, calling the attention of the class away from Lance. “Before we begin I’d like to introduce two new faces. First, Lance McClain, first year and recent promotion to Fighter Class. Step up here, son.”

Lance curses softly as he wills himself to let go of Keith and do as told. Trying to stand straight as the attention of the class returns to him. “Markus. Lauren,” Iverson continues, “You’ll be his engineer and technician. Is that clear?”

Two upperclassmen step forward and Lance wills himself not to sweat. “Yes sir,” Markus says, grinning at Lance. Lauren winks.

“Next,” Iverson calls out, “We’ve been assigned a new officer. He is your teaching assistant. I expect you to listen to him as you would me. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir” the class parrots without hesitation.

“Takashi Shirogane,” Iverson greets, “It’s good to have you here.”

“It’s good to be here, sir.” Shiro grins as he stands next to Lance. And god… Lance catches Keith’s eye, face schooled even as he wills himself not to scream. Shiro...

.

Lance make himself look at Shiro even as Keith nearly vibrates next to him in excitement. He’s going up soon. Team 10, just after Keith. His stomach rolls and he’s nervous. God he’s nervous.

“Hey,” Lance looks up and it’s Markus. “You’re going to be okay.” He has a friendly smile and big hands as he claps Lance’s shoulder. A good two heads taller than Lance, Markus seems to tower. A friendly giant.

“We’ve seen your scores,” Lauren adds in a whisper as Keith’s team steps in. Lance gives a quick wave when Keith looks back. “We’re gonna kick Team 9’s ass.”

“I’m not as good as Keith,” Lance whispers back, blushing.

“Bullshit,” Lauren grins, vicious and all teeth. A shark. That’s what she reminds Lance of. A grinning shark whose smelt blood in the water. “My sister’s on his team. We’re gonna kick ass.”

Lance can understand that. And slowly he can feel the competitive streak he’s beaten down these past three years rear its head. He takes a deep breath. “Okay.” Because here he is, at the Garrison in the same class as Keith, something he could never have dreamed of. He’s a good pilot. He knows that. He has the experience. He has the skills. And he’s learned how to keep up with Keith to watch his back. Maybe… Maybe he had a chance… “Yeah,” Lance grins. “Let’s cream’em.”

Laurens punches him in the shoulder. Hard. “That’s the fuckin’ spirit, Little Dude.”

Markus gives his shoulder another reassuring squeeze before letting go just in time for them to be called up.

“Good luck,” Shiro says brightly as Lance passes and Lance looks up just for a moment. All black hair and scar-less but with the same undercut, the same grin.

Lance smiles, “Thanks.”

.

The simulator isn’t one he’s familiar with. Their mission is simple--enter and repair a downed terraforming ship on Europa. Lance’s job was simple, in and out. Lauren needed to maintain peace and treat the wounded crew. Markus had to fix the ship. He just needed to get them in and out, that’s all. He could do it.

Lance took a deep breath. “Preparing for drop,” he says as their screens blink into life and the simulation starts. They’re in one of the newer ships. Built out in space. Not made for takeoff within an atmosphere but faster than any of their other ships and capable of breaking out of an atmosphere as long as they had the right elevation. Lance had studied these ships when they’d first come out, daydreamed about flying them. He could do this.

It was no Blue, but he could do this.

(He misses her. He misses his ship.)

“Everyone buckled in?” Lance asks as the countdown begins. He’s learned with Pidge.

“Aye-aye, captain,” Markus grins.

“Then we have launch in 5…4…3…2…1.”

They drop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! So I'm going to use (♦) ever time I'm about to reference gore. The passage above doesn't really have a lot, but I wanted to test it out. Was it jarring? Do you feel warned. In the notes I'll have the symbol repeat as well as a summary like I did below. Let me know if that works!
> 
> So I was really about to give ya'll like 3k+, but I had to cut myself off. Chapters for this story are not meant to get that long. Just means the next update should come out faster! But that being said, lot's happened right? Shiro is back! More Ocs. Iverson (I just have so many feelings about Iverson...). Hunk and Lance finally, sorta, maybe interacting. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading. And the feedback. I appreciate it and I hope you guys liked this chapter! CX
> 
> EDIT: Just to clarify. I know there seems to be a plot hole, but there isn't. Like I totally covered this -ish. I got it planned out. Explanations will be given. 
> 
> **(♦)** Lance remembers in blurry detail his condition when Keith unshackled him from Haggar's cell


	12. Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we hear from some other voices.

“Yeah….Yeah mama…No I’m good….” Aaron tries to smile as he opens the door to his dorm. It’s empty. Lance won’t be back yet. The morning simulators should still be running for the Fighter Class while the general cores classes left a free time just before lunch. Aaron wonders if Lance will come back after classes. Hopefully not. He and Keith needed time to talk more. They were better. But they could get even better. “Yeah, classes are going good…No. No.” He laughs, “Yeah I’m getting along with my teachers. How is Ciara? Uhuh…uhuh. Yeah….”

He sobers, kicking his shoes off. “Is…has there been any change?” Silence. Aaron swallows, hard. He slips his hand into his pocket, rubbing his thumb over the pin he keeps there always. On the other side, his mother takes a deep breath.

“ _ No… no  change yet.” _

“Oh…” Aaron takes a deep, stuttering breath of his own, closing his eyes. “You’ll let me know if…”

_ “Of course,” _ his mother cuts him off.  _ “Of course. Just focus on your studies, baby. Okay? For me?” _

Aaron nods, “Yeah, I promise. I’m- I’ll do well.”

“ _ We love you, baby _ .”

Aaron hesitates, licking his lips. “Love you too, Mama. An-And say hi to Dad for me.”

_ “Of course. Of course. Talk to you soon?” _

“Yeah…Talk to you soon.”

**...**

Shivanni grins, high fiving Hunk’s outstretched hand as the professor moved on. “Nice one, dude,” She says, staring down at their accurate model of the Ares 12 rocket, the first rocket to send colonizers to Mars.

Hunk blushes, “You’re the one who figured the crossing in the wires that kept it from lifting off.”

“And you’re the one who managed to duplicate the details on the engine to that size,” She reminds him, “Even if it was mostly cosmetic that’s definitely going to push our grade over the top.”

He blushes harder. “You know… you’re a great engineer,” he half-whispers.

“Oh…,” she blushes. That was saying something coming from a guy like Hunk who was clearly a genius in his own right. She’d seen his work and his test scores, had noticed the way the teacher called him out as the example the class should follow. To know that he thought… “Too bad my heart’s set on the sky,” she jokes, lacing her fingers together.

She might not be Keith or Lance, but… but she was going to fly. Machines made sense. They were beautiful. But the freedom of flying… who could say no to that?

He looks, for a moment, faintly green. “Yeah… I think I’d rather stay on the ground.”

She snorts, “You are the weirdest dude.”

**...**

Keith bites his lip, sneaking glances at Shiro who’s talking heatedly with Iverson as Lance drops in the simulator. He knows this one. Lance might. He was in fight class before right? For a short time. Though this simulation… it’s a bit much for a first time, right? He turns to Vicky and asks, “I thought that sim was for intermediate students?”

Vicky shrugs, equally worried. Wasn’t her sister on Lance’s team? Keith isn’t sure. 

Sophia leans closer and whispers, “Think Iverson’s making a point?”

“What do you mean?” Vicky asks.

“I hear there’s a lot of politics with two freshman in our class.” She looks at Keith and smirks, “You’re making all the older students nervous and that makes the faculty nervous. I heard Professor Sutherland didn’t like your friend moving up even though he had the scores.”

Keith scowls, “If we can fly, we can fly. What’s there to argue?” Shiro is getting flustered now. Cheeks red, shoulders raised. The kind of look he gets when he doesn't agree with what someone's saying but he's too polite to call their bullshit. He's seen it enough times when Allura and Shiro argued to recognize it on sight. 

“That’s what you’d think,” Sophia shrugs, “but think about it.”

“Maybe if it looks like there are too many kid geniuses in your class there will be talk about the curriculum being too weak?” Vicky guesses.

“Or favoritism,” Sophia adds.

“Favoritism?”

Sophia shrugs again, “I hear McClain is a fancy last name, ya know. Got ties to the government or something.”

Keith snorts and rolls his eyes, “ _ Sure _ he does. Lance lives in Florida. His family is middle class. His mom is retired air force, his dad is an architect. It’s all pretty average.” Not that Keith resents Lance for that. Not anymore, anyway. He’s gotten over it, made peace with his childhood. He had Shiro, Allura and Coran, and Pidge and Hunk and Lance. They were his family.

And now he has Lance. Maybe Hunk. Shiro’s here, breathing, smiling. Within touching distance. Keith will figure it out, find a way to get that bond back. It won’t be the same, but it’ll be there. He’s worked with worse odds. Soon Shiro will be assigned as his mentor and things will be okay.

Sophia shrugs, “Hey man, I’m just tellin’ you what I’ve heard.”

Keith hums as he stares at Shiro out of the corner of his eye just in time for the simulator to start flashing red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! I wasn't sure about this chapter so let me know what you think.


	13. Twelve

Flying is freedom. It’s release. Catharsis. And yet it is also control. Complete and utter control with the knowledge that there is nothing between him and the ever expanding nothingness of the universe but four walls and his own skill. His life is in his hands. His world--narrowed down to just the controls under his hands, the quiet chatter of his crew mates, and the steady hum of the engine beneath him.

This is what it means to fly for Lance. This is what it means to be free.

Growing up the middle child of two incredibly successful parents, burdened with the knowledge that anything he ever attempted to amount to could be done and done better by the oldest child while also hyper aware of his role as role model to his little sister, Lance had grown up terrified. It had taken him years to understand this about himself, years of being out in space with enough literal distance to stop and think “why?” He’s terrified of failure. Terrified of losing. Terrified of making more mistakes than he already does. All swaddled under layers of blustering confidence and a sense of perfectionism that dictates everything he is from his vanity to his need for competition to his choice in hobbies: violin, dance, swim team--where every move has to be precise, to have control over every movement and breath. Easy to judge; you were either good or you’re not. Great or not. Always an easy understanding of what it mean to be first or second.

Flying had been a culmination.  _ Perfect control _ , his mother would tell him.   

That was why he had loathed Keith. Keith Kogane, orphan son. No legacy to live up to or example to set (Mother retired, decorated Lieutenant Colonel of the US Air Force, now Senator. Father, adored and applauded architect asked to work on everything from monuments to the aesthetic qualities of the newest and greatest Green Living Projects). And yet there he was, named best of their years. Best of their generation. Untouchable no matter how hard Lance worked. And so why bother? His grades slipped. He took to sneaking out, playing hooky. No one could say he failed if he hadn’t even tried. Better to give up than place second.

Hunk had saved him from it all. Hunk who was too good for him. Hunk who deserved better than the child he’d been when they’d first met. Hunk had been the one to point out his self-destruction, had reminded him someone had to be second, that there wasn’t as much inherent shame as Lance thought.

But at that point it was too late to take second, not with the way he’d fallen. And so he’d scraped by the skin of his teeth into Fighter Class with the knowledge that it was only the mistake of another that allowed it, as if he hadn’t earned it. As if he hadn’t done his best. Worked so hard… And there it had been. Keith.  _ Keith _ . On the lips of every professor and every student, a reminder that he would never be good enough. Never first. Always second.

Only Hunk had seen differently. Only Hunk had believed in him. Always just Hunk and Lance against the world. (But not this time…. No. Not this time…)

Seeing Keith again, a year later, beating him to Shiro, had left Lance seeing red. Knowing Keith hadn’t even remembered Lance had left him shaking. It would take six weeks in space and the constant strain of war for Lance to forgive Keith for existing.

It would take a year for them to become friends.

It would take two for Lance to finally, finally lay their (his) bad blood to rest.

Being back at the Garrison attending Fighter Class with Keith, not as his rival but as his friend, a two-man team of itty-freshman against a whole class of upperclassmen… It sounds like a fever dream. Sometimes it feels like one too. But here he is. Sitting in an Ares-class explorer making steady progress towards Europa, joking with a team made of people other than Pidge and Hunk…

What does it mean really? To be in control of one’s life?

“No, you don’t understand,” Lauren screeches, eyes on the radar. “Lance don’t listen to him. He’s rude.”

Markus laughs, loud. “How is stating facts rude?”

“It’s rude when they’re rude facts,” Lauren defends. “You don’t believe him do you, Lance? I would never, ever get drunk.”

“And apparently get naked and dance while chanting for rain,” Lance snorts, shoulders shaking from how hard he’s trying not to burst into laughter. “I’ve only known you a few hours and let me tell you that doesn’t sound like you  _ at all _ .”

She’s quiet for a moment and then, “Rude. I hate you both.”

Lance turns around to stick his tongue out at her just as Markus flashes him a thumbs up.

Yeah…definitely feels like a fever dream.

.

They don’t run into trouble until they’re about to enter orbit and the ship gives an unsettling lurch.

“She’s holding,” Markus calls out as Lance starts to ease into the approach.

The ship gives another series of shudders and Lance curses, cutting back the engines to let the gravitational pull of the moon keep them in orbit, terrified of forcing his way in and having the engines cut out on him. “Is it structural?”

Markus frowns. “I’ve heard of this problem with the Ares. They’re fast but not that durable. But from the readings it looks like we’re good to go. It might be just because she’s delicate.”

Lance hums and looks at Lauren. “What do you think? You know more about this mission than either of us.” Technicians were always given thicker packets before the sim. Their skill resting less on onboard skills and more on contact and assessment. Markus could tell him if she could take it. But Lauren would be able to tell him if she had to.

She looks at Lance. “We have no knowledge of the crew’s condition and we cannot communicate with them from this distance.”

Lance takes a deep breath. “Looks like we’re going in. Lauren, plot a course to the downed terraforming ship. And put on your emergency harnesses. This is going to be a bumpy ride.”

.

Maybe someone with more military experience and less literally-the-only-and-last-line-of-defense experience would have pulled out, contacted home base to get more information, or reassessed. But Lance did not have that experience. And neither did his team.

So to say the ride in was just bumpy is to say Voltron is just strong or that the Castle is just fast. She screams as they puncture their way through the last layer of the atmosphere, smoke still trailing off of her and some of the functions still fluctuating after going dark between the second and the third layer. “Integrity?” Lance calls out, leveling them off. The air is misty here and he throws the radar on the main screen for better navigation. Not that there should be any real problems, there’s no Galra waiting for them just behind a cloud.

“She took a beating, but she’ll hold. Don’t want to stress her too much though. Easy flying from here on out.” Markus takes a deep breath and returns to his main seat. Lauren is occupied, trying to make contact with the crew.

“I’m not getting anything,” she says, finally. “And I don’t know if it’s from our end or theirs.”

Lance nods, “Well we’re getting close to your drop point. I want check-ins every half hour. This baby can’t land. So we’ll have to work with what we’ve got.”

“Aye aye, Captain,” Markus chants, unbuckling and grabbing his suit enhancements, getting ready to drop into the second layer of simulation. Lance had never gone. Pilots rarely did, most of their skill required on the ship. He had been curious but Hunk had always seemed to hate it and even Pidge had admitted coming out of the second drop made her nauseous.

In five they’d be over their launch point. “Take care of each other, yeah?” Lance calls as they finish helping each other into their equipment. “And don’t forget your check-ins!”

“Don’t worry, Lance,” Lauren grins just as the ship door opened and they readied to parachute down. “We got this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah! Hope you guys enjoy this one! The ~science~ was a lot of fun to write. XP Does it sound believable enough?
> 
> Also a quick explanation, time feels different in the sims verses outside. So for Keith it might have only been half an hour for Lance and Co., it's been hours. How did they get all the way to Europa in a few hours? They didn't start on Earth, but a space station closer to Jupiter. I feel at this point in time humanity has begun colonizing the solar system with Mars having a stable colony. The transformer ship was sent out to make a space on Europa that could be livable for humans. Giving us a base close enough that Pluto would be easy to reach quickly. Granted this is a sim, but I figure sims are created with the idea of possible future situations graduates might find themselves in.
> 
> Also shameless plug but I uploaded a new Voltron Fic called [Color Me Blue](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8290154/chapters/18990494), a Keith-centric Klance fic. Consider checking it out!


	14. Interlude: A Quiet Moment (Art)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little gem that took place around Chapter 4.  
> Please read the notes!

_"Get Better Lance..."_

 

[ Posted Here on Tumblr](http://thequeen117.tumblr.com/post/152299605725/based-on-a-scene-from-my-fanfic-down-the-rabbit)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanted to share this with you guys. I hit a bit of a writer's block but so I drew this to remind myself what's really at the heart of this story: Klangst (jkjk). But don't worry! The next chapter should be out tomorrow afternoon! 
> 
> If you like my art consider checking out my new art blog: thequeen117.tumblr.com. 
> 
> Also! I've seen some artist do some live writing sessions on google docs. Would anyone be interested in hanging out and talking about the story as I write. There will be spoilers, but I thought it might be fun. Let me know in the comments if that's something you all would like to do!


	15. Thirteen

In retrospect, at least Lance can say the wait is short. That, if nothing else, the sim hadn’t allowed enough time for complacency. As the first half hour came and went without any contact from his crew, Lance simply turns his ship around.

_ Of course  _ , he thinks as he flies, periodically attempting to contact his crew and receiving nothing but static,  _ the problem is lift off. _ The Ares class is a beautiful ship. Fast. Efficient. But limited. A ship that can not lift if grounded is a ship best suited for drop offs and, Lance supposes, recon. Not that the Garrison has any reason to need a ship for recon, but Pidge would have had a field day with a ship like this.

_ And Keith  _ , Lance supposes. But Keith has always been too blunt to be any good at espionage.

But none of that really matters. His crew is down there. And if he can’t make contact in the air then retrieval is Lance’s only option. Maybe he is expected to do differently. He can admit that this sim is turning out to be a lot more complicated than he bargained for. Not something he expected on his first day of fighter class, but he can do this. He might not get a great time (he doubts it) but he can bring his team home. As long as the sim is still running it means they aren’t hurt too badly.

Hopefully they aren’t hurt at all.

.

It takes too long to find a stable patch of ice that can bear the weight of his ship and is close enough to hike to the terraforming ship. The drop is terrifying, as it always is. Cold and disorienting. And as he steps out of the ship (even though he knows his body is still safely aboard the simulator and that thought is always jarring, no matter how many times he does one of these) he can’t help but be terrified by the expanse of ice before him. Europa: an icy moon. Taking a few delicate steps forward, he paces himself, checking with his walking stick for weaknesses. From horizon to horizon there is nothing but ice, glaciers and open plains wrapped around what Lance can only assume is miles and miles of bottomless ocean. If Blue were here, Lance would have broken through and gone exploring. There is nothing quite like slipping in and out of the water, easier than breathing, faster than flying in space. Guardians of Water. There is nowhere else they are meant to be.

(Lance misses her. It’s easy to forget sometimes. But when he wakes up to the quiet of an early morning to the knowledge that something is missing, it always, always leaves him breathless.)

The hike doesn’t take too long, but Lance can only see the seconds ticking by. Not for the first time he curses this body. Slow. Weak. Delicate. Fifteen years old and soft and so different from the body he had spent years of working to keep up, to keep pace with Shiro and Keith and Hunk. Speed meant nothing without endurance. And Lance might always be faster, but in war the only way to win is to outlast your enemies.

By the time he reaches the lip of the crater the ship had crashed into, he is sweating, breathing hard as the suit does it’s best to maintain a steady stream of renewed oxygen. From this distance he sees nothing wrong, nothing to imply why their communication is down. Just a downed ship.

No crew, not of the terraforming ship’s, nor of his.

He takes a moment to put away his walking stick before jumping down. Sliding down the wall of the crater might not be his best move. But it’s fast, even if he falls twice. At one point goes rolling down, arms up to avoid any possible damage to his helmet (Suits can be taped shut. Helmets got tricky if the crack started to splinter.).

He can only imagine how Keith would have laughed if he’d seen this.

Once on stable ground, he tries again, “Lauren. Markus. Hello? This is your pilot speaking?” But there is nothing. Just more static, eerie in the silence of the ice planet. If Lance let his nerves get the better of him, he would almost say it felt like a grave. Quiet. An oddly pristine white except for the harsh red lines like scars cutting across the surface. And cold. Even in the suit with its temperature regulations he feels cold.

It might not look it but his instincts tell him there is something wrong here. Something very, very wrong. And he’s fought too many battles to ignore that warning, but…

But his team is here. And Lance will die before he lets anything happen to his team.

He starts walking towards the ship.

…

A murmur rises up from the crowd as Keith pushes his way forward. The control panel is flashing red and dread floods through Keith as he elbows past Shiro to look down at it. But it doesn’t make sense to him, the words pass too quickly. The letters might as well be Altean. He blinks, squints, tries to make sense of it as the light keeps flashing red.

His hands shake as someone wrenches him away and it’s only the shaking that keeps him from lashing out, paralyzing him. He’s panicking. Keith realizes dimly as if from far away,  _ I'm panicking. _

“It’s just a sim,” Someone—no, Shiro--says, coming into view, hands a steady reassurance on Keith’s shoulders. “Hey, can you hear me?”

Keith nods. Jerks his head up and down and tries to focus on not having another anxiety attack in the middle of class.

“It’s just a sim. Someone is injured, but it’s not fatal. The sim would have ended if it was fatal. Right?”

Keith jerks his head up and down again.

“Good, good,” Shiro murmurs, pulling Keith towards the corner of the room. Away from the crowd and the prying eyes of his classmates. Distantly, he hears Sophia telling someone to “shut the fuck up.” “Now I want you to breath with me. Can you do that Keith? Breath in.”

Keith breathes in.

“Breath out.”

Keith breathes out.

“Breath in.”

They’ve done this before. Keith and Shiro. Not in this timeline, but before. Once when Shiro told Keith he was going away, leaving for Kerberos, and Keith had panicked, begged him not to go. He had known something was going to happen. He had known in the same way he had sensed Blue, in the same way he’d woken up the day before Lance and Keith found themselves stranded in the past and known something awful was going to happen. Shiro had done this then, coaching him how to breathe, reminding him that nothing awful has happened… yet. Yet, because Keith still has a way to fix it.

But… but how does he fix this?

Because yes it’s just a sim. But Keith has been hurt in simulators. Crashed and burned. Fallen and broken bones. Stumbled and cut himself on rocks. Suffocated… It might be fake, it might not last. But the pain is real. The fear is real.

He would do anything to keep Lance from pain. His thoughts float towards memories of healing pods and holding Lance’s hand as he slept in a hospital bed. Keith can feel the panic rising again. “Lance,” Keith finally says. Blinking. Pulling away. “I have to help…”

Shiro’s face is kind, impossibly kind. “Lance will be okay, Keith. It’s just a simulation, okay? Lance will walk out a bit shaken but you’ll be there for him, right?”

“Of course,” Keith snaps and then shuts his mouth, mortified. He’d snapped at Shiro.  _ He’d snapped at Shiro _ .

Shiro doesn’t look annoyed. Instead, he smiles, “Good. Now do you want to stay here or watch the console?”

“Console,” Keith says, already standing. He needs to keep watch. If he can’t be there then the only way to keep control of the situation is to watch. Shiro’s right. He can’t save Lance. But he’ll be there when he can. He’ll do everything he can.

…

It isn’t hard to find the damage to the ship. What is hard to understand is how they were expected to fix it. It wasn’t engine damage that had brought this ship down, it was structural. As if someone had taken a battle axe to a toy ship, there was a jagged cut in the back, large and bent open. Fraying. Lance walks closer and finds, confused, that the metal is hot to the touch as he presses his fingers against the closest edge. Hot. In this climate?

But this is where the footsteps in the ice lead. His team had been here. His team had gone inside. He takes a deep breath and keeps walking.

.

The ship is frozen inside. Frost covers every nook and cranny; his footsteps crackle. The lights don’t work in this area of the ship. He turns on his head light. There are no signs of life, but there are no signs of death, either. The ship crashed on Europa after entering the atmosphere. There should be signs of struggle, of people clinging on as the ship plummeted out of the sky, miles from the original destination--papers scattered on the floor, furniture overturned. Signs of living--food, cups and mugs, spills. Something. Anything? But there is nothing. Everything that wasn’t bolted down is gone. Even as he walks away from the original breach and enters the main hallways there is nothing. He pokes his head into one of the rooms; a bedroom with a set of bunk beds and a nightstand. There is nothing else, no clothes, no books on the nightstand. He steps inside. The beds have been stripped, he notices/realizes?, numbly. It is as if the room has been scrubbed down.

It doesn’t make any sense.

He keeps walking, opening doors that will open and taking only rights whenever the path splits. There is no sign of his team.

There is no sign of anyone.

At one point he finds the kitchen. He starts opening drawers and cabinets. He knows ships like this, fully stocked with everything to mimic human life to avoid dissociation. There should be plates and glasses and people’s favorite mugs in the cabinets. There should be cutlery and napkins and dish towels in the drawers. But there’s nothing.

He opens the fridges. Nothing.

The oven. Nothing.

The pantry. Nothing.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. As if no one had ever stepped foot in here. As if no one had lived here for the two weeks it takes to get from Earth to Europa. Not even dirt in the corners to show the passage of time.

But he has to keep moving. His team is here. His team could be hurt, could be bleeding out. Trapped or… or lost in the halls of this giant ship made to fit a crew of 100 that seemed to hold no one. He gets up, takes another deep breath, and keeps walking.

He won’t fail his team. He won’t lose his team. Not now. Not ever. He thinks,  _ What if it were Hunk? What if it were Pidge?  _ Yes, he’s only known them for a few days (less in the real world). But that doesn’t matter. A team is a team. And this team is his.

He keeps walking.

.

At one point he finds a sock. It’s yellow, sitting in the middle of the hallway as if someone dropped it. The doors in this area are ajar. Some even hang off their hinges as if ripped open. There is nothing in here to suggest life. All the bedrooms are just as barren as the rest. But here he sees signs of struggle. A blanket on the ground. The sock. He ducks underneath a bed and finds a single, dirty fork. He picks it up and puts it in his pocket. He doesn’t know why, but it feels wrong to leave it there. So he takes it.

He opens a closet. There’s a few pieces of paper, most just doodles. But one is a letter, torn out of some sort of diary and Lance takes a moment to sit on the floor to read it. It isn’t long. It doesn’t tell him anything, not really. But it’s proof that people were here--the writer, her roommate Malathi, her roommate’s brother Abhi. They were here. They lived in this room.

It’s like a sign.  _ I was here _ , the writer tells him.  _ We were here. And now we’re not. _

Something happened on this ship. Lance closes his eyes, curls up against the back of the closet, and tries to keep the rising terror at bay. Something awful happened to these people. And they could still be happening.

He gets up.

He keeps walking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made myself sad thinking about the next few chapters. So do what you want with that thought. 
> 
> I'm going to be working on chapter 16 in this google doc: ~~HERE~~. EDIT: We are now offline! 
> 
> And as always, thank you so much for all the great comments and feedback. I honestly haven't had such a responsive audience since I was writing HP fanfiction on ff.net (interesting times, lmao) and I appreciate every word you guys write to me!
> 
> Promo: I've made an art blog please consider checking it out: thequeen117.tumblr.com


	16. Fourteen

Slowly, life bleeds back into the ship. The further he walks in one direction, the more chaos he finds. The emergency lights are on and he flicks his headlight off in an attempt to conserve power. But in the darkened hallways with only the dull red and green lights to illuminate his path, he has to wonder if the darkness was less terrifying. Doors are hanging off hinges, tables overturned, a chair broken, something made of glass shattered on the floor --a pair of glasses, a shattered watch, more papers. Doodles. Not all by the first writer, who didn’t seem to have much artistic talent. He aches for a weapon, fingers tingling with the need to pull out the gun he no longer has. There is something wrong here. In the silence. In the way everyone is just… gone.

There are still no signs of his team.

It doesn’t make sense. There are only so many hallways, only so many doors to go down. They entered the same way Lance did. There should be signs, other track marks in the frost that lined the early hallways. And then, later, signs that someone else had looked for clues--opened drawers, opened closets. The same signs Lance left behind that someone had been there, looking for something or someone.

He takes another right and stops. He’s out of the dorms, making his way towards the main living quarters. Past that should be the control hub, the proverbial center of any ship. He can only assume that is where Markus and his engineering skills would lead his team. Maybe that is where he will find the rest of the crew?

_ People don’t just disappear _ .

And if he has to repeat that a few times for it to stick then that’s fair. It didn’t matter if his own experiences lead more towards the supernatural than the natural. It didn’t matter that in many ways one could argue that he had appeared out of thin air, waking up one morning in a bedroom that was both his and wasn’t his. You could argue those things, but the Garrison didn’t know about those kinds of things. As far as the Garrison was aware, people did not just disappear.

And this… all of this. No matter how terrifying it is it’s still just a simulation. He will not die here. Lauren and Markus will not die here, trapped in ice wrapped around miles and miles of bottomless ocean. They will wake up in their bodies, disoriented and confused, but if they die they will wake up safe. They might fail and Lance might lose his spot in fighter class, might lose his chance to fly with Keith, but in the grand scheme of things Lance is old enough to know that that isn’t the end of the world.

(It might feel like it. But it isn’t.)

.

The living room is a mess, the messiest room he’s found so far. Sofas pushed against the wall or overturned, a coffee table shattered, the screens shattered. He hears the glass against his boots no matter where he steps; it is the only noise on the ship other than his breathing.

He fights down his nerves. Reminds himself that nothing can really hurt him. The pain is fleeting. The fear temporary.

(Part of him doesn’t want to go further. Wants to call it quits and walk back, walk out, fall asleep in the ice and snow until the simulation ends and they’re all back home. Screw the consequences. Screw the backlash.

But the part that has been fighting through the fear for the better part of three years screams at the thought. He is a Paladin of Voltron. He does not back down. He does not give up. He is the Universe's only and last defense and every mission takes precedent. He knows this. Of course, he knows this.

And there is a part of himself that reminds him: Keith will come. If it gets too bad, too dangerous, then Keith will find him. Like before. That’s why Allura always paired them together--Lance and Keith, back to back. Like always.)

There are more papers here, hidden half-under a slab of table as if hastily shoved underneath, that Lance is careful to pick up. In the silence, any noise feels sacrilegious. It’s the same lined paper from before. And Lance takes care to collect all the pieces of the diary that he can find. He doesn’t stop to read them. Not yet. This room is too open, too broken.

He gets up and tries the next door. Locked. The third. Locked. He turns back. Tries the door he came in from and feels his heart drop when he rattles the handle. Locked. A key card scanner blinks red, apathetic to the fear that sits like a weight in his throat, making it hard to breath. Making it hard to think.

What does he do now? Trapped like a rat in an abandoned ship on a silent, icy planet with a downed ship, no crew, no back up. Lance’s knees shake. His hands shake. The papers clutched in his hand protest as he tightens his fingers, tries to push past the approaching panic. “Think Lance,” he hisses to himself. “What would Pidge do? What would Pidge do?”

He closes his eyes. Takes five deep breaths. In and out and in and out. Opens. Starts looking.

There’s nothing to break the door down with. Nothing he can lift anyway. He gets on his hands and knees, starts looking for some kind of ventilation shaft. Vents on ships like these tend to be large to help regulate temperature while allowing for easy maintenance. It might be a tight squeeze (even at fifteen he has never been as small and compact as Pidge), but it’s a start. When he finds nothing, he starts trying any drawers to see if there is a key card. Nothing.

He feels the panic. He takes five more deep breaths. Keeps looking.

There’s a closet. Inside is a pair of boots, a set of gloves, and a stack of board games. Clue. Scrabble. The classics. He moves them out of the way, hyperaware of the way the glass drags against his gloved fingers. There--a vent just big enough to crawl through. But he needs something to pry it open. He goes back out.

The writer’s papers are in a small pile by the door and he unwrinkles them as best he can, folds them, and stores them in his suit’s fannypack. He’ll read them in the vents. The vents should be safer than here, out in the open with nowhere to run.

(And it says something about this ship that he feels safer in the vents than on the floor.)

If he’d had his bayard, he would have just blasted his way into the vents. But then again, if he had his bayard he would have just blasted his way out of the room, keycard be damned. But he doesn’t. He has a fork. Glass. Broken splintering wood. And… there. Half-tucked under a sofa is a shard of metal. The smallest edge just big enough to fit in the groove of the screw.

.

The insides of the vent echoes with each crawl forward. And if he could smell through his helmet he imagines it would smell musty from the lack of flowing oxygen. His helmet light gives him enough to see but there isn’t a lot to see in the tunnels. Finally he finds himself in a space large enough to sit up on his knees.

The papers are still there and he does his best to sort them by date. Some dates are missing. And some letters are torn. He begins reading.

.

_ 2530.12.11 _

Launch went disturbingly well. It is a first for any ship I’ve been on.

We’ve all been assigned rooms--four per--but apparently my fourth roommate dropped out at the last minute. Good riddance I suppose. Space has no place for someone who’d prefer to stay on Earth. Such thinking is inherently dangerous to the mission.

My other two roommates are a woman and a man, siblings. Malathi and Abhishek Singh, Abhi for short. When I introduced myself, they pronounced my name correctly on the first try. It was refreshing. And a good sign. If we are to live together for the next six months then I would prefer we get along.

I don’t know how often I can write, but I will do my best to maintain my logs. I know mother always complains when I leave too many days blank. With my time on Earth so limited, we rarely have enough time to make sure we are caught up with each other’s lives.

These books let us stay close.

.

_ 2530.12.12 _

As I mentioned before, Malathi works on deck as a communications officer in charge of payroll and internal affairs. A glorified HR Personnel. She would be better off on a Venus-bound vessel, working to set up the new colony. She is too qualified to be working here.

I told her this in private after dinner. Her brother was there (they are rarely apart) but he had his headphones on. I don’t think he heard me.

She didn’t seem offended. She said she wanted to be somewhere new, that she wanted to go somewhere no one else had before.

That is fair. Yes, a three-man crew has touched on Europa before, but she will be amongst the first settlers.

I told her I understood the sentiment.

She asked me if I was going to stay on Europa. I don’t think I will; Mother is waiting for me on Earth. We still have to trade books.

And I would like to explore Saturn on day. The crown jewel of our solar system has always held a special place in my heart.

.

_ 2530.12.15 _

Malathi has been missing for three days now. This should not be possible. We are on a spaceship, there is nowhere to hide.

Abhi and I spoke to the Captain. Commander Hannah explained that she was simply on call in Cargo, handling a dispute with some records. Apparently there are beds down there. He showed us her signature on the internal ships’ radar.

This did little to assuage mine or Abhi’s worries and doubts.

.

_ 2530.12.17 _

Malathi has finally returned to us. She does not look well. She is sleep deprived and oddly ravenous, eating second and third helpings at dinner and lunch despite usually only taking one. She is a small woman. Barely comes to my elbows with an equally slim figure.

I overheard Abhi ask her if she is alright as I drifted off to sleep last night. She said she was scared.

She will not tell us what happened in the cargo bay.

.

_ 2530.12.18 _

There is something wrong with the engines. They fly well, their outputs are stable, but  _ (here the ink is smudged, like the pen had rested against the paper for too long) _ they sound wrong. I don’t know how else to explain it. I brought this up to the head engineer, Alya, and she said she would discuss it with the Captain. This is not the first ship we have worked on together and it makes me happy to know how much she trusts my judgment.

Malathi looks better after a good night of sleep and I told her such. She smiled at me. She has a very beautiful smile. I blush even as I write this but it has been a long time since I have grown so close to someone so quickly.

I can only hope where our relationship takes us.

At lunch I

_ (The rest of the note is missing) _

.

_ 2530.12.20 _

Alya has been missing since yesterday. We were meant to meet each other for lunch but she did not show. And I could not find her today. When I told Malathi this she became deathly pale. I did not bring it up again.

I have begun asking around to see if I’m the only one who has noticed. It seems parts of the crew have slowly been disappearing and reappearing since our launch. I just hadn’t noticed thanks to the normal shift rotations.

I wonder when it will be my turn. I am… scared. But I am also curious.

When I spoke to the captain about the engines...

_ (The rest of the note is missing) _

.

_ 2530.12.21 _

The engine was screaming today. Screaming. I did not know what to do. Neither did the other three on shift with me. At one point, we all huddled together until it stopped.

I can still hear her.

.

_ 2530.12.24 _

I was finally called down. I am too scared to write about it. What if they find this? What if I write it down and they find this and they punish me? They threatened my mother. I have no one but my mother left.

I am too scared to move from this spot I have made for myself in the closet of our shared dorm room. Malathi and Abhi are out. Abhi will be called tomorrow. We only have one more day until we dock at Europa. And then what they’ve been preparing us for will begin.

I do not know how Malathi survived it. She was gone for so long. She is so very strong. They must have perfected it so it can be done in only a day. At least I got out easy.

I am terrified of what will happen once we land.

I hope somehow this book will make it back to my mother. I love you, Mama.

.

Lance doesn’t know what to do. He sits there, gripping the paper and willing himself to breath. What sort of sim is this? It’s all too realistic. Too detailed. The notes, the sock, the fork. What game is Iverson playing? What is he supposed to be doing?

Was he supposed to even make it this far?

It takes too long for him to will his legs to move, but at least he has a destination: the cargo bay. If he wants to find out what happened here he needs to go to the cargo bay. The vents can only take him so far without a proper map, so first he needs to get to an officer’s terminal. Well… no.

First he needs an officer’s keycard. The dorms were empty but the offices should be around here. Then the terminal. With a map he’ll be able to find the cargo bay and with it the possibility of survivors.

But… but was that the point of his mission? Would that lead him to Lauren and Markus? Should he head to the control hub like he intended? But there was no telling if they were there. Maybe if they’d found similar information…

He wishes he could communicate with them. All he needs is a sign. Something. A clue of where they were.

Lance sniffles, storing the papers back in his pack and turns right, away from the living room but in the direction what he hopes is the offices. What should he do? Should he focus on the mission and hope he stumbles into them? Or…

It’s as he stops crawling, frustrated and confused--panic edging closer and closer no matter how hard he tries to just focus—that he hears it. He freezes. Takes a deep breath and wills his heart to steady. There it is again.

Voices.

Talking.

Slowly he turns left and edges his way closer to the nearby grate. Peering down through the slats to the room below, he bites his lip to keep from screaming.

Because he’d recognized that armor anywhere. Bigger. Clunky compared to what he’s used to and with harder edges. But unmistakably purple and the same symbol along the back and shoulders.

Galra.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my mad rush to post this, I might not have proof-read it. *shrugs*
> 
> SO! Who saw that coming? *cackles* I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. And thank you for everyone who came to hang out with my while I wrote this. I had fun talking to you guys and sorry about the technical difficulties. The next time I do it hopefully that won't happen.


	17. Fifteen

Lance might have bitten his lip hard enough to start bleeding. He honestly can’t tell past the growing numbness. He wants to scream. He wouldn’t be surprised if he is screaming, but he isn’t. Because they haven’t noticed him, not yet. But he’s fought this war long enough to know he needs to be fast. They’re still talking, speaking to one another in their mother tongue. Blue isn’t here to translate for him, not like before. But he’s studied. He might not be fluent in Galra, but he knows enough. Ten thousand years of conquest has left it the dominant language of their known universe.

Taking a deep breath, he lets go of his lip and feels the warm wet blood slip down his chin to splatter against the bottom edge of his helmet.  _ Focus, Lance _ , he thinks to himself _. You are a Paladin of Voltron. Focus _ .

Their pronunciation is off, as if the Galra speaking had only recently learned their own language, but it was close enough for Lance to assume they were from one of the Southern Quadrants. Leaning close, he turns off his helmet light and listens.

_ “Tell the commander we have nearly finished our last sweep of the upper decks. Nearly everything salvageable has been removed and stored away for the researchers,” _ the older Galra orders, a captain of some sort from the stripes on his armor.

_ “What of the newcomers?” _ the younger Galra asks.

The Captain thinks for a moment,  _ “Add them with the other hostages and then prepare a scouting party to look for their ship. If there are any others… shoot on sight.” _

Lance moves.

Newcomers can only mean one thing: his team. His crew. Lauren. Marcus. They’ve been captured by the Galra. He gasps, feels tears prickling in the corners of his eyes. No. Nonononono. Not again. God not again. (♦) His mind flashes to yellow eyes and a cruel smile hovering overhead as he fights against the restraints. He can hear Pidge. He can hear her screaming.

“This would all be over,” Haggar whispers, running a warm hand across his cheek to wipe away his tears. Gentle for now. Somewhere, someone moves, the sound of fabric against the metal floor, and he turns away, strains to see who it is. But he can see nothing but the light above and Haggar, her smile ever present as she continues “...if you spoke, my Blue. Tell me where your lion is. We already have the Green Lion. We already have the Red Lion. What can this act of mercy cost you?”

“Fuck you,” Lance had hissed as Pidge had screamed, chocking on his sobs. Pidge had made him promise. Pidge had made him promise not to give in. No matter what. No matter what she said or what they did to her. He had to be strong. For Pidge. For the Universe. For Voltron. “Fuck you. Rot in hell, Bitch.”

She’d slapped him then. Still smiling. Cut his cheek and his lips with her claws. The blood warm across his freezing skin. “Than listen to the little one suffer,” Haggar ordered, leaving him chained to the table. Pidge the only noise he could hear above the beating of his heart. (♦) 

Lance gasps, fights down the sobs that are clawing at his throat. Finds himself. He’s not there. He’s not. He’s on a downed ship on Europa with a missing team. He punches his leg, feels the pain blossom under the heavy material of his suit and focuses. It’s only been two hours. They’re still planetside. He has time. He won’t let them get hurt. He won’t make the same mistake again. He won’t, he won’t, he won’t.

(He can’t.)

He moves.

.

He makes a plan, he’s good at that. He’s no great, inspiring leader or genius technician, but he’s good at this--taking intel and making a plan.

First step of the plan: get more intel.

He knows enough about these ships to know how they operate. The original briefs they were handed before the sim detailed the security system if information about the crew and the ship’s layout. The only way to access the internal maps is with an officer or higher-up’s keycard. From there he can formulate a way through the ventilation system to get to the entrance of the Cargo Bay.

The vents are safe. The Galra can’t squeeze through and there are enough sharp corners that a blast should hit a wall if he manages to be fast enough. The danger is noise. The vents echo and, in turn, will amplify the sounds of his movement. Some kind of sensor for when Galra are close would be useful. Pidge would have been smart enough to hack the terminals to make one. Hunk would be smart enough to MacGyver a sensor. But Lance isn’t.

He’ll have to work with what he’s got.

Slowly, he takes off his helmet. The air is thin here. Breathable, but not ideal. The cold nips at his cheeks and eyelashes. It hurts his eyes. Lance only has a few minutes before risking frostbite. He presses his ear to floor and pushes down the hiss of pain at the feeling of icy metal against the material of his under suit. The ship is silent. He waits. Seconds tick by and then… There. Footsteps to his left. He peels his skin from the floor and pops his helmet on ignoring the pain from the left side of his face. He’s dealt with worse.

He turns right. If he had to guess, he hasn’t gone far from that first common area. The offices should be nearby.

Every now and then, he’ll stop and listen, wait for a minute before proceeding. Avoids footsteps when he can and takes calculated risks when he can’t. When he comes across a grate, he’ll stop and try and orient himself. A kitchen, another living room. The minutes pass.

At one point he finds a terminal. He’s on top of a hallway. From where he is, he can spy a sign--7 th floor. Next to the sign is a terminal and he marks it in the mental map he’s been creating. On the other side of the terminal is another sign pointing left towards the administration offices.

Jackpot.

It’s easy after that to take three more lefts and a right. Easy enough to get cocky. Easy enough to forget to be patient.

“Did you hear that?” a Galra whispers. Lance takes a grounding breath and stops moving. Freezes. There is silence and then…

“There is no one else on the ship,” another Galra says. “Come on. We have to finish our rounds and then we can join the others… And get off this forsaken ice planet. I get leave next week.”

“Lucky,” the first Galra congratulates the other as their voices grow fainter. Lance fights the need to collapse from relief. They’re leaving soon. He doesn’t know how long these rounds will take. He can only hope it’s enough time to make it out before they’ve transferred everyone to the Galran ship.

.

He drops into the first ruined office he sees. The rest are too spotless, pristine like the earlier dorms. But this one is wrecked. Papers and drawers are thrown on the floor, and with them their contents. It is easy to find the laminated card in the mess, hidden under a handful of papers.

The problem comes with getting out. The vent he’d dropped out of is in the ceiling and the chair isn’t tall enough to stand on and climb back up. He can’t move the desk. Slowly, he looks past the framework of the door. The hallway looks empty. He hopes it stays that way.

It should be a short walk. It should be only a few minutes. It’s slower crawling than walking, especially since he pauses next to all slightly open doors as if he’ll need to hide any moment. At one point he swears he hears footsteps and ducks inside to hide behind a group of filing cabinets only for no one to pass. His palms are sweaty. His heart is erratic. But he isn’t panicking. He’ll panic when he’s home. Safe. With Keith. He’ll break down there.

Just like before. 

The last time he’d stepped out of Galran clutches he had fallen apart as soon as the lion touched down in the Castle hangers, screaming and sobbing. Clinging to Keith as Keith tried to get him to a healing pod, blood and sweat making it hard to find a strong grip as Lance broke down.

He’d been crying when he was thrown into the healing pod. Pidge had been there. He doesn’t remember much from that day, but he remembers that--safe and whole after managing to escape before Lance. Nothing like the last time he’d seen her. (♦) Broken leg and still running. Broken fingers and still doing her best to get the hanger door open in time, shaking with the weight of exhaustion and fear. Purple and red coloring her clothes and her hair and her teeth.(♦) 

(Lance will never regret buying her those extra few minutes to escape.)

For a moment, just a moment, hidden behind a set of lockers and waiting for footsteps to never pass, he can see Lauren where Pidge had stood. Bloodied and gasping. Fighting against a clock that was doomed to end too fast. And he bites his lip hard enough to make it bleed.

“I won’t let it happen again,” Lance swears. “I won’t. I won’t. I won’t.”

.

If this were a videogame, Lance would almost say it was laughably easy to reach the terminal. He downloads the map onto the same handheld that stored his communicator and suit readings before finding another vent in another common living area. This one he screws loose with the back end of the fork, hands unsteady as he listens for the telltale sound of armored footsteps or Galran voices.

Once inside he reads the map. From here it looks like the fastest route is to make it to a larger vent shaft towards the left-center of the ship. Almost a straight drop down to the lowest level of the ship before the Cargo Bay. From there he’ll need to get to an access door and open it using the keycard.

Pulling out the keycard, he checks the name for the first time since grabbing it. The picture is that of a young Indian man. Probably in his late-twenties. But it’s the name that makes his heart sink: Abhishek Singh. He thinks back to the state of that office and sighs, deep and heavy. An unsettling and familiar sense of sadness settling in the pit of his stomach.

In battle, when freeing hostages or prisoners, it’s rare that you manage to save everyone. He’s been doing this for three years. He’s used to it.

Doesn’t make it hurt any less.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahdfljahfdjsajds!!! OMG! Y'all's response to the last chapter was like *is blown away.* Thank you so much!! I think there will be one or two more chapters of this sim and we will finally be moving onto the main portion of the second arc of this story. I originally intended to finish this before Halloween, but time got away from me.
> 
> Let me know what you think! 
> 
> (♦) Lance has a flashback to a session with Haggar during the early days of his imprisonment when they used to torture Pidge to make Lance talk. At this point, they have the Green and Red Lions and they want Lance to tell them where Blue is so they can capture the Blue Lion/the Castle of Lions. 
> 
> (♦) Describes the condition Pidge was in when Lance and Pidge first tried to escape. Gravely injured, Lance bought her the time she needed to escape despite the fact that it lead to him being recaptured.
> 
> PS: If you sent me a comment in the last chapter and you don't see it, it's cause I went to hit "read" and instead my laptop spazzed and I hit "delete." I'm so sorry! I really appreciated your feedback and enjoyed reading your comment. Please don't think otherwise. It was an honest mistake on my part.


	18. Sixteen

The simulator screams as it comes to an end. The lights flash red once, twice, a third time and then shuts off. Someone says something, something unimportant as Keith steps towards the door. Iverson meets his eye for a moment, a look of regret crossing his face before giving way to the same grim neutrality Keith had learned to expect from the older man.

“Team eleven, line up,” Iverson barks before stepping towards the simulation door—Keith right on his heel with Shiro standing close by as he has been since Keith’s almost break down—only for the door to open by itself.

It is Lance. Eye’s red and sweeping across the room, trembling against the doorway as he and Lauren help Mark down the walkway. They make eye contact. Lance’s legs nearly give before he catches himself. Keith steps forward to help. “Keith,” Lance gasps, handing Mark over with unsteady hands only to fall into Lauren, both of them trembling. Both of them haunted.

“Lance,” Keith whispers back. “What… what happened in there?”

Lance sobs, sucks in a deep breath and holds it as his shoulders shake. He shakes his head. “Not here,” he mumbles. Lauren doesn’t bother to hold it in. As a paramedic takes Mark from Keith’s hands, she run to her sister, sobbing.

“Hey Laur,” Vicky says, bringing her sister close. There are murmurs from their classmates and Keith can already imagine the rumors that are bound to spread. There are more paramedics now, coming closer. Trying to take Lance away and Keith has to remind himself they only want to help.

“It’s going to be okay,” Shiro steps in, signaling to the paramedics to wait, to hold. “Hey Lance.”

“Shiro,” Lance mumbles, tearing his eyes away from Keith to glance at Shiro only to turn away. He leans forward, hides his face in Keith’s neck. Keith takes a deep breath. He can feel the anger growing, bubbling in the pit of his stomach the longer Lance tries to keep himself from falling apart.  _ What happened in there? _

Keith turns to look at Iverson, glaring at the older man.  _ What did he do? _

“We’re going to take you to the infirmary, okay?” Shiro is still talking and Keith tunes back in just in time to hear Lance agree.

“Keith,” Lance says.

Keith tightens his grip on Lance for just a moment. “I’ll stay with you.”

Lance nods.

“I’m staying,” Keith repeats for the paramedics.

An older woman nods, says “Of course,” before helping Keith help Lance onto a cot. “Do you want to sit?” she asks.

Keith wastes no time climbing up next to Lance as the paramedics begin wheeling the two of them away. Lance safe in his arms. Lance breathing slower. Lance closing his eyes. “Rest,” Keith encourages. “It’s okay. I have you.”

Lance’s breathing evens out as they enter the infirmary. (Keith never realized how close the infirmary is to the simulator.) “What happened in there?” Keith asks to no one in particular. “What happened to you, Lance?”

.

The cargo bay is cold. Not in temperature. There is no frost here. The lights work, the oxygen works, and with it the temperature control of the ship stays on. But there is a wrongness about this place that leaves Lance cold, shivering in his suit as he keeps walking forward, listening for voices, listening for anything that could give away his position.

It is huge. The map had said so but walking directionless through the many hallways of the cargo bay, Lance only now realizes what it means for a level of the ship to run from bow to stern. There are signs on the wall, arrows pointing this way and that, but he doubts there will be a sign that points towards “cells” or “prison area.” And time is running out.

It’s luck honestly, as he weaves through boxes and slips through open doors, that he hears someone speaking. Not just one someone but many. In English. It makes Lance pause, turn right instead of left down a hallway with bright blue lights. There are small containment rooms here, almost like closets. He tries the first door. Open and empty. The second the same. But the third is locked. There are no peepholes or bars, but he takes his helmet to press his ear against the door.

English.

He knocks. There is silence and then many people talking all at once. Some calling for help. Others telling him to fuck off. There’s a keypad by the door. It blinks red until he tries the keycard he’d picked up. When the door unlocks, he thinks,  _ Impossible _ . When it swings open and he steps back to see about fifteen people huddled inside, each one dressed in the uniform of the crew of the terraformer, he thinks,  _ It can’t be that easy _ .

But it is.

It is.

“I’m from the rescue crew,” Lance begins, “Has anyone seen my crew?”

An older man steps forward. “No we haven’t. But there are more cells. More survivors.”

Lance doesn’t waste time. “The Galra should have ships nearby,” is all Lance can tell them before he’s moving, trying every locked door. There are six cells, each filled with people. But despite originally holding a crew of over a hundred, less than 50 must have survived.

The seventh cell he finds has only seven people in it, but it is smaller than the others and he gives the same advice to those inside. “I know where your crew is,” a survivor steps forward. She is an Indian woman, petite. Just a few inches shorter than Lance.

The other six stand close by, looking unsure. “I can’t take all of you,” Lance says, honest. “I’m sorry. I have to find my crew.”

“So you’ll leave us here,” another survivor snaps, this one a man, older than Lance and twice his height. “You’ll take your guide and fuck off?”

“I’m sorry.” And Lance means it. He really, really does. “But I can’t help you.”

The man steps forward, as if to lunge, before another grabs his arm. “Come on,” she says, “he’s just a kid.”

The man glares before turning away. “You really throwing your luck in with them, Malathi?”

The first survivor smiles sadly, “I’m sorry Daniel.”

Daniel scoffs, “Then good fucking riddance.”

When they are gone, Lance turns to Malathi, “Do you really know where my team is?”

Malathi nods. “I saw them dragged this way. They should be in a more secure room.”

Lance curses. He can work with this. At least he knows where they are. The seconds keep ticking. They start moving.

At some point they start encountering guards. Galra instead of the robots Lance knows would usually be assigned the banal task of patrol. Ducking into an open cell door, but making sure to leave it cracked to avoid getting locked in, Lance admits, “I know you.”

“What?”

Lance pulls out the papers in his pocket (And what are the chances that she’s here, Malathi Singh. The papers in his pack seem to almost burn.) “I found these.”

“Oh Lana,” Malathi whispers, shifting through the crumbled paper. Her hands are shaking, but now is not the time for crying. Lance reaches out and squeezes her hand. She looks up at him and sniffles. “She didn’t make it. She died in the first boarding. And then Abhi fought back and…”

Lance hands her the keycard he found.

She sobs.

But they don’t have time for this. When the guards pass, he urges her to move. They don’t have time. “I’m sorry,” he tells her as she opens another cell door, “for your loss.”

She sniffles as they keep moving, not even waiting to watch the survivors exit their cell. Apparently his crew is further ahead in a hallway marked with green lights. “Thank you,” she mumbles.

Lance chews on his bottom lip, ignoring the pain. “What happened here? Like… what did they do to you?”

She freezes. And Lance nearly shouts, stopping short to avoid stepping on her. “I… I’ll tell you if we get off the ship,” she promises. And Lance can respect that. He’s been through enough trauma to know to respect that.

Their luck runs out. As they enter the green section of the cargo bay, they run into a patrolling Galra soldier. Lance has no time to think about it, no time to waste. He reacts. Drops the Galra as hard as he can before wrestling the blaster from their grip. The fight takes less than a minute, but it feels like hours after Lance shoots, feeling the blaster cool in his hands.

There’s purple on his knees from where they touch the floor and he forces himself up on unsteady legs. It’s been awhile since he’s killed someone from this close.

“Are you okay?” Malathi asks.

Lance nods. “Yeah,” he gasps, fighting the feeling of panic. Closing his eyes against the flashes of purple floors and purple lights, the thick smell of blood as Lance screams at Pidge to hurry up, to move. She’s screaming… screaming something… “ _ Lan—. _ ”

“-ance!” Malathi snaps, shaking his shoulders. 

Lance gasps, ripping away from her only to the collapse, double over, and fight to keep the nausea in.“Sorry,” he gasps. “Sorrysorrysorry. I-” he chokes, swallowing hard. When he stands the nausea settles. “Sorry.”

They’re in a cell again. Hiding. At some point Malathi had moved them. “Are you okay?”

Lance nods because what else can he say? When she looks doubtful he adds, “I’ll tell you when we get off the ship.”

“That’s fair,” she chuckles. But there isn’t anything humorous about it.

They find Markus and Lauren eventually. Their cell is the smallest, but it’s identifiable from the windows in the door. This is a real cell. When he opens it, Malathi looks away and takes a deep breath. He doesn’t have to ask if she’s been here before.

“Lance!” Lauren gasps before Lance shushes her.

Lance raises his blaster to the light-chains and fires. “We have to be quick,” he tells them when they’re both down, rubbing their wrists. They don’t look too injured. Banged up, but their suits are intact. No helmets, but the oxygen should hold until they get to whatever Galran ship they can use to get out of here. And then the ship will take care of it. “Malathi, do you know an area big enough to house a bunch of ships?”

Malathi nods. “There’s an area on the other side of the cargo bay where the majority of the large crates are housed. Best place to keep a ship. It’s where the other survivors probably went.”

The two look at him, shock clear on their faces. But they don’t have time for this. “Hopefully they’ve caused enough noise we can sneak by,” Lance says, assessing his gun. Twenty shots and then he’s out. He’ll have to be smart. “Let’s start moving.”

They run through the hallways. They don’t run into any more patrols, but the closer they get to wherever Malathi is taking them, the louder it gets. When they stumble upon a survivor getting taken down by a Galra soldier, Markus shouts and moves to step in.

“Not the time,” Lance screams, grabbing him and shoving his shoulder.

“We can’t just leave them,” Markus argues but he’s moving, running with them.

Lance wants to save them. He does. “We can barely save ourselves,” Lance snaps back. “If we can we’ll get out of here and radio for help. Let the army know what’s going on.”

“It’ll be too late,” Markus argues. As they turn left behind a stack of boxes, Lance nearly cries at the sight of it--a standard Galran fighter jet. Big enough to fit four humans. Exactly what he needs.

“Oh thank god,” Lauren chokes out, already sprinting full force. Lance hot on her tail.

They’re almost there when it happens. Shots fire closer and closer until he hears Malathi scream. Lance spins, raises his rifle and fires back.

“I got her,” Markus shouts, already turning around, already running back.

“No!” Lauren screams, but it’s too late, it happens tlo fast. One tick. Lance shoots, watches a Galra soldier fall as Markus gets to Malathi. Two ticks. There are more soldiers, more fire. He’s going to run out of ammo. He has to keep firing. Three ticks. A Galra grabs Markus, rips him away. Lance raises his blaster and pulls the trigger. Four ticks. Nothing comes out. He’s run out ammo. Markus goes down howls as the Galra runs a blade through his stomach.

“No,” Lance mumbles. Drops his gun and stumbles forward.

“Go!” Markus chokes out as the Galra soldier grabs him, the blade still there, still sticking out of his stomach. “Ge-”

“-t out,” Lance screamed. “Go.”

“I’m not going without you,” Pidge screamed back before cheering when she finally got the bay doors open. The console sparked when she let go. 

A robot got to close and Lance shoved back onto his ass and took off its head. But the robots did not stop coming and the foot soldiers would be arriving soon. They didn’t have time. 

“Come on, asshole.”

Lance took a second to look back. She was almost inside the pod now, just a foot out. Lance got up on unsteady legs, hands throbbing from where the broken bone ground against itself. But he worked past the pain. He had to. He had to for Pidge. “I’m coming,” he lied. Stepping forward so she took two steps back, safe in the pod. He raised his stolen rifle and fired.

“No!” Pidge cried, throwing herself against the door where the pod had automatically closed to protect its passengers. “No. Nononono! Lance.  _ Lance! _ ” she sobbed. Lance saw that much through the glass door before a foot soldier hit him against the head. Dropping, he fought to keep his eyes open, to watch her leave. To make sure she’d stay safe. Safe in the pod. Escaping. “Please! _ Laaannnncce! _ ”

“Lance,” Lauren screams, shoving him back. “Lance, move god dammit.” She’s crying, shaking as she keeps pushing back as he shoves forward. Where was she taking him? Why was she stopping him? Markus. Markus!

“No,” Lance screams. “Markus! Markus!!”

They’re in the ship. He doesn’t know how. He doesn’t understand. “Mar--,” Lance gasps, shaking.

Lauren throws him forward, still sobbing. Choking on her words. “Fly,” she gasps. There is gunfire. A Galra steps in front of the ship as if to stop him. “Fucking FLY, McClain!” she screams, shaking him before stepping back, falling into one of the other seats.

He takes his seat, hands shaking, vision obscured by his tears as he shoves the Galran fighter out of the hanger. There are more Galra out there--fighters in the air, guns on the ground. He picks up speed and takes off. He’s only flown a Galran fighter once and this one is clunky, slower. But he pushes as hard as he can as he sobs, screaming. “It’s not right,” he hears himself say as they breach up and up into the clouds. “It’s not fucking…”

Lauren is still sobbing. He can hear her. 

They’re almost out. They’re almost safe.

As their fighter punctures the atmosphere, a purple light flashes before his eyes.

It goes dark.

.

Lance wakes in the infirmary, screaming. There are hands, holding him down against the bed as he pushes up, “No!” Lance gasps. “Nononono! You won’t... You can—.”

“Lance. Lance!” And Keith is there. Face pale and tear streaks on his cheeks, “Hey. You’re alright. You’re safe.”

“Mar…” Lance tries to say. His tongue feels heavy. His thoughts slow.

“It was just a simulation.” And that’s Shivanni, running a cold hand through his hair. “It was just a simulation. You’re safe. Lauren is safe. Markus is safe.”

“Yeah, man,” Aaron reassures him, “They’re just asleep. They’re in a different room. You can see them tomorrow.”

Hunk comes closer and Lance breathes out, falling back onto his pillow. Hunk is here. “You can’t move too much, Lance,” he whispers, “you’ll pull out your monitor. Do you need us to get you anything? Water? Food?”

Lance blinks, trying to understand. Slowly he moves his arm and sees a clear wire running from his inner elbow to a machine. Oh.  _ Oh! _ “Keith,” Lance mumbles, reaching out.

“I’m here,” Keith says taking his hand again. He’s shaking. Lance squeezes hard.

“M’ safe,” Lance mumbles. He knows he won’t be awake for much longer. His eyelids feel heavy. His thoughts are too slow. “Stay.”

“Yeah,” Keith smiles. “I’ll stay. Of course I’ll stay. Rest now, Lance. You’re safe.” Keith squeezes his hand. “We’ll watch over you.”

It’s easy to fall back asleep after that.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I totally rushed this one. But I don't have a lot of time with NaNoWriMo and I still want to get you guys updates. If you see a typo or a spelling mistake please let me know so I can correct it! Thanks!! TuT
> 
> But in good news the sim ended! I hope it was a fun ride. Now we get all that great emotional fallout this fic should be famous for! WHOOO!! I'm thinking about holding a lil' writing session this Sunday. I'll post an update here letting you know when. 
> 
> And as always! Please let me know what you think!!


	19. Seventeen

Lance wakes to an empty hospital room. A steady stream of desert sunlight is spilling in through the blue curtains, leaving patches of yellow against the white bed sheets as the room is colored a cool-blue. From where he lies, half-asleep and somewhat dazed, he can hear no one. Just the steady hum of machines and his breathing. In and out. In and out.

In the calm silence of the morning it’s hard to reconcile his last twenty-four hours. The screams. The gunfire. The sound of an engine exploding as a purple light filled his view. It’s hard to reconcile the fact that he is currently breathing when he has died. But at the same time it is easy to feel distant.

Disconnected.

_ Keith and the others must be in class _ , Lance thinks, turning his head away from the window to look around the room. It is a proper room this time with a door and a bathroom to the side. Not like before when it was just a bed and a curtain. He’s thirsty; it takes him a moment to realize it, but he is. Slowly, he sits up, aware of the wires in his arm and yet somewhat unconcerned. He doesn’t ache. He’s tired. He’s thirsty. He’s hungry. But he feels no pain in spite of every memory that says it should be otherwise.

On the bedside table is a bottle of water and a tray--a box of cereal, Cheerios; a box of milk; a bowl of fruit; a cup of orange juice. His stomach growls and he picks up the water bottle.

Halfway through ripping the milk carton open to pour over his cereal, there’s a knock on his door. It startles him. Not enough to drop anything, but enough to tense up, to freeze for a moment before saying “come in.” The silence of the morning shatters.

“Hello Commander Iverson,” Lance mumbles, setting the milk down to hide his shaking hands. He doesn’t know why the Commander is here, but Lance has a feeling it’s not something he wants to hear. He has never hated Iverson like Pidge did, or Hunk; he never felt very much for the man. He was a teacher, he was someone Lance had to impress. But he had no personal opinion on the man overall.

“Cadet McClain.” Iverson isn’t smiling. But he doesn’t look angry. More thoughtful, from the pinch between his eyebrows and the heavy set of his shoulders. He takes a seat on a stool Lance had not noticed until now. “I’m glad you are doing better.”

Lance searches for a way to respond. “It… It was a hard sim, sir,” Lance finally offers.

Iverson smiles at that and nods. “Yes, it was. Arguably our hardest.” He gives Lance a heavy look. “You performed exceptionally well. One of the closest to ever finishing with their crew intact.”

Lance can’t help but feel pride at that, his competitive nature rearing its head as he soaks up the praise. It is rare that Iverson has ever praised him, in both this life and the last. “Thank you, sir,” Lance says, “I couldn’t leave my team behind.”

“And that is what will make you a great pilot,” Iverson agrees. “I told them… Well,” he waves his hand as if to wave away that comment. “You will be subjected to a formal review at a later date if all goes well. But until then I must insist you do not discuss the particular details with anyone outside of your team.”

Lance says nothing. He frowns, turning the spoon on his tray this way and that.

Iverson frowns and leans closer. “Especially with Cadet Kogane. Is that clear Cadet McClain?”

“I-” Lance’s mind races for some way to get out of this. “Can I… Can I ask why, sir?”

Iverson shakes his head. “I’m afraid I’m not able to tell you more. But I need your word on this, Cadet. It is best that Cadet Kogane not know about this until we say otherwise. Is that clear?”

Lance knows a threat when he hears one. His hands are shaking. He’s been in the game long enough to know when he has no out, when it’s best to just bide his time. “Ah… Yes. Yes, sir.”

Iverson smiles then, leans back. Satisfied. “You really did do brilliantly,” Iverson says, standing. “Keep up the good work, Cadet. Great things are in your future.”

He leaves shortly after that.

.

It’s hard holding out long enough for the panic subside, for the faint ringing in his ears to die down as he focuses on his breathing, on the feeling of the spoon in his hand, on the way the sunlight falls against his arm. It’s hard to not just give in. To throw something. To scream.

They know. It’s the only explanation. It’s the only reason they would give Lance that simulator. He messed up somehow or… or they were always monitoring him from the moment he woke up in his bedroom one-and-a-half months ago. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know.

It’s enough to get the shaking going again, enough for him to have to fight that panic down.

He needs to focus.

_ Focus _ .

Keith is in danger. If they’ve figured out Lance then they must have zeroed in on Keith as well. They haven’t tried to hide their friendship. They hadn’t thought they’d need to. The only way to make sure Keith will be safe is to get some distance and focus on getting answers. How much does the Garrison know? How did they figure it out? Are they in contact with the Galra? Are they in cohorts with the Galra? Do they know about Blue? About Voltron? Have they taken her away from him? What about Hunk or Pidge or Shiro? Does the Garrison know the role they’ll play in the future? Do the Galra? How much danger are they in?

There are too many questions. No answers.

But he is a Paladin of Voltron. He is a Defender of the Universe. He just needs to focus. He will not risk the safety of his team by running blind. Step one: Collect Intel. Move forward from there. He knows how to do this. He’s run enough missions, fought enough battles.

He’ll start with Lauren and Markus. They’re safe, he’s allowed to talk with them. And then branch out from there. Iverson knows more than he’s letting on, but he’s also getting his information from somewhere. Good thing is, the military is structured. The guy above Iverson knows more. The guy above that guy knows even more.

Lance has a starting place.

.

Lance can’t sit still anymore. He’s never been very good at patience. He can if he has to, but right now his nerves move him forward. His breakfast is left half-eaten on the bed as he pulls on the hospital-grade slippers and steps out of his room. The infirmary is large, well equipped, and well-staffed. A built-in hospital for a school teaching children how to fly some of the most sophisticated machinery in the world. It doesn’t hurt that the Garrison is also known for aiding older students towards medical degrees if they’ve shown an aptitude.

A nurse finds him wandering and doesn’t question it when he asks for his team. Apparently this is expected behavior. Lauren and Markus have their own rooms, just like Lance, but theirs are closer together. Lance goes to Markus’ room first. He’s awake, reading. “Can you move?” Lance asks.

Markus shakes his head. He hasn’t slept, it’s clear from the dark circles under his eyes. 

“I’ll go get her,” Lance says.

Lauren is lying down, but when Lance knocks, she turns. “Hey,” she says. Her voice is rough and her eyes are bloodshot. She’s been crying.

“I’m going to visit Markus if you want to come,” Lance says, tapping his fingers against his leg as he stands in the doorway.

She doesn’t take long to get up and find her own pair of shoes. Bunny slippers. “Yeah, of course.” Her hair is a mess.

“We’re back,” Lance announces as they return, Lauren beating him through the door to climb onto the bed and hug Markus. “How are you guys feeling?”

“We should be asking you that,” Markus mumbles, squeezing Lauren back before letting go so both of them can sit up against the headboard. Lance joins them on the bed, sitting cross legged.

Lance shrugs. “I didn’t get captured.”

“Yeah, but don’t pretend you didn’t go through hell and back, McClain,” Lauren says, voice firm. “We care about you too.”

Lance nods, looking down at the bed sheet as he picks at a loose thread. “It wasn’t great. But… but I’ll be okay.”

“We’re here for you,” Markus reaffirms. “We’re a team, right?”

“Yeah,” Lance says. Finally he looks up. “Look did… Did Iverson stop by?”

Lauren and Markus share a look, both frowning. “He stopped by for you too?” Lauren asks. “But he…”

“He seemed to imply the program we’re being considered for is pretty elite.” Markus says, “Apparently the sim we went through is used as a sort of test. So why’d he give it to us?”

“And with a new pilot,” Lauren adds. “Not that there was a lot of piloting, no offense Lance. But it seems weird that they would consider Lance as a freshman.”

“What program?” Lance asks.

“That’s the thing. We don’t know,” Markus shrugs. He rubs at his eye before sighing. “There’ve been rumors that top graduates are being considered for some new program. Takashi Shirogane is supposed to be part of it.”

“Guy’s my hero,” Lauren offers, “one of the youngest graduates. Brilliant in every way that matters and a pretty cool guy to hang out with. The fact that he’s back at the Garrison might be…”

“Suspicious,” Lance agrees. He never thought of it before. Why did Shiro serve at the Garrison instead of another base before the Kerberos mission? He adds it to his list of questions.

“There are too many questions,” Markus shrugs.

“Well fuck that,” Lauren argues. “Like hell I’m going to let the Garrison jerk me around. They put us through hell. You got stabbed,” she points to Markus accusingly, “and they got fucking-fifteen-year-olds running around fighting aliens? That is not okay. That is the opposite of okay.”

“What do you suggest we do then?” Markus snaps back, glaring.

Lance shifts, clears his throat. Pulls the attention back to himself before they can start arguing. “We have to look for answers.” They’re a team. They’ll help him protect Keith. “Iverson says I can’t tell Keith. Team Nine might be up next.”

“They’re not touching my sister,” Lauren swears, voice filled with rage as she clenches her fists. “I swear to god if they even think about touching Vicky…”

Markus takes a deep breath and nods. “Okay… Okay. We need a plan.”

“Iverson knows more than we do,” Lance says. “Start with him.”

“And we’re leaving next month to apprentice on a military base,” Lauren points out. “As part of the whole training thing. We’ll probably have access to databases we don’t get here.”

“It’s a place to start,” Markus agrees. “But we have to play this safe. We have to be careful. They catch wind that we’re sneaking around and we’re fucked. Special candidates or prodigies be damned.”

Lance and Lauren nod. They’re in this together after all.

Lance takes a deep breath. He won’t let anything happen to Keith.

.

Lance is discharged later that day. After lunch and a snack, he’s left with orders to return to his room as fifth period lets out. His friends are still at class. Lauren and Markus are exhausted, ready to head back to their own dorms. After their brief planning session where they’d agreed to meet later in a more secure area, they’d played a game on Lauren’s tablet, tried to distract themselves from their impending task because they’re just kids. And they’re scared. It’s easy looking at them to know they’re over their heads.

The Garrison is military for all that it’s a school. If they’re caught they’ll be facing criminal charges. The end of their careers. Lance might have a destiny outside of the Garrison, but there is no guarantee for his teammates. But Lance won’t let that happen. He’ll take the fall happily. They’re his team.

He will never let anything happen to his teammates.

Stepping out of the shower, he frowns as he wipes his hair dry.  He wonders what Pidge is doing right now. Or is she Katie? He never learned where that nickname came from. He assumes it’s a family nickname. It would fit.

Officer Yu finds him with a shirt on and a pair of pajama pants. By the time he manages to free his arms and wear his shirt properly, they are both terribly embarrassed. “Sorry,” Yu says, “should have knocked. But I was worried you’d be running late.”

“Running late?” Lance asks. “I was just discharged…”

“Apparently Professor Sutherland scheduled a meeting with you,” Yu shrugs. 

Lance frowns and logs into his tablet. Just as he thought. There was nothing in his calendar, but he refuses to argue with Yu. He’s just a messenger after all.

“Let me change my pants,” Lance says, setting his tablet down. “And then we can leave.”

Apparently this is a pretty time sensitive meeting because Yu has Lance jogging across the campus to make it. “I was just told it was important and to find you,” Yu says. “But good luck. Sutherland has never had the nicest personality.”

“Are you supposed to be talking poorly about your coworkers?” Lance jokes.

Yu makes a sour face. “I was a student less than two years ago. Trust me when I say you don’t want to be on her bad side.”

Walking into Professor Sutherland’s office, Lance is surprised to see Keith sitting on the sofa. The Professor seems to have stepped out. “Hey,” Lance whispers, taking a seat next to Keith. Keith jerks, blinks, and turns to see Lance.

“Hey,” Keith mumbles back, pulling Lance into a hug. “Sorry I wasn’t able to visit. But Hunk said he’d have my head if I skipped again.”

“School is important,” Lance jokes, pulling away. “Are you alright?”

Keith shrugs. “You end up in the infirmary too often.”

Lance tries to smile. “I promise I’ll work on that. But seriously, do you know what’s going on?”

Keith shakes his head. “Since when do they tell us anything?”

Lance laughs humorlessly. Keith has no idea…

It is then that Professor Sutherland re-enters the office with Shiro following close behind. “I’m glad you could make it Cadet McClain,” she says, not unkindly but not particularly warm either.

“My apologies, Professor,” Lance replies, keeping his voice even. “It seems we had a miscommunication. There was no meeting on my calendar, but luckily Officer Yu was able to find me after I was released from the hospital.”

At the mention of the hospital, Professor Sutherland’s face sours and Shiro’s turns sad. Lance tries to send him a reassuring smile and squeezes Keith’s hand.

As Professor Sutherland opens her mouth, Shiro steps in. “Keeping that in mind, this meeting doesn’t have to be very long. We just wanted to discuss the mentoring program you two will be entering. As you know, the upperclassmen will be leaving campus for a month to intern at different military bases around the world. But you two, as brilliant as you are, are too young to participate in this program. As such, your teachers Commander Iverson, Professor Sutherland, Commander Miranda, and I have created a mentoring program to supplement the classes you will be missing.” He turns to Professor Sutherland when he finishes.

She nods. “Yes. Officer Shirogane will be your mentor. Seeing as this is all experimental, the program will be fluid to your needs and will be heavily monitored by the board. But we expect you both to put on your best behavior and to continue to perform at the level you have set for yourselves.”

“Hopefully not too much pressure,” Shiro jokes when neither Keith or Lance react.

Lance finally nods as Keith says, “Of course. We’ll do our best not to disappoint you.”

After that it doesn’t seem like there is much left to say. They sign a few documents. Shiro tells him they will start meeting on Wednesday and they’re at the door when Shiro calls to him, “Get some rest, Lance.”

“Will do, Shir- eh. Sir,” Lance calls out as Keith opens the door.

“Shiro is just fine,” Shiro says. “And for you too, Keith.”

Keith grins. “See you Wednesday, Shiro.”

And with that they’re out the door and making their way towards Keith’s room. “Professor Sutherland is terrifying,” Lance admits once he thinks they’re far enough away.

Keith laughs, “Yeah she was like that last time. Really intense.”

“She reminds me of this one Great Aunt. Nothing made her happy,” Lance says. “I swear I’ve never seen her smile. Not even once.”

Keith rolls his eyes. “She’s not that bad. She’ll warm up to you.”

Lance hums. “We’ll see.”

For a moment they fall into silence and then Keith asks, “Do you…” Keith takes a deep breath. “I’m here for you if you want to talk about it.”

Lance tries to smile, but even he knows it’s shaky at best. “Yeah… I just. I don’t think I can talk about it right now,” Lance says. Not yet. Not until they’ve found some way to keep Keith safe. “I think I just need time to… process it all.”

“Yeah,” Keith says, taking his hand. “But I’m here for you. I’ve got your back.”

“I know you do,” Lance says. “And I’ve got yours. We have to protect each other, right?”

“Right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another unedited chapter. This one was a hard one to write. A lot of set up. But I hope you guys enjoyed it! Please let me know what you think.
> 
> So a lot of notes! Please read if you want to. But don't feel like you have to read all of them especially if you're attempting to avoid politics right now. 
> 
> 1) I received a comment about pacing and where this story is going. I just wanted to address this publicly because more than one person has this question. This story will definitely be broken into multiple chapters. This arc will finish out leaving this story around 35-40 chapters. We'll have a short break much shorter story and then we'll continue with the main plot in the next large installment. I want to do this to avoid burn out. I know large stories like this can be intimidating. I appreciate everyone whose stuck with me so far. I hope I've managed to keep you all entertained!
> 
> 2) I know AO3 has not been sending out the update emails. I'm so sorry about this and I wish I could fix this. I usually post updates on my tumblr--QueenMogar117.tumblr.com/tagged/my_writing--if you ever want to check there to see if this story has been updated. 
> 
> 3) POLITICS AHEAD:
> 
> And finally I just wanted to address the elephant in the room. As an American. As a Muslim. As a Bisexual Woman. As someone in a relationship with a Lesbian, Latina Woman. I am not loving the results of last nights US Presidential Election. I know I'm not alone in this.
> 
> And I just want to take a moment to talk to my readers who are terrified right now, who are scared or worried about your friends and family and your own safety. We cannot give up hope. I have studied politics long enough to know this is not the end of the world. Our situation is not looking great. But America is a Democracy. America has no Monarch or Dictator. Trump is about to be handed a lot of power not because he is president but because the House and Senate are Republican-Majority. I won't try and sugar coat this. It sucks ass.
> 
> But this is not the end of the world because we're still here. We can still vote. We can still protest and petition and write to our Senators and House Representatives. Every four years, America seems to wake up and realize politics is something that affects their daily lives and then on November 9th they go back to sleep. End this cycle. If you are of voting age and upset with the outcome of last night. If you are turning eighteen within the next four years and upset with the outcome of last night. Do Not. Go To Sleep. 
> 
> Stay vigilant. 
> 
> Stay informed.
> 
> Mark November 8th, 2018 as the day we stonewall Trump in the House and Senate with a Democratic Majority. But for that to happen we will need _you_ to go out and vote. If Trump attempts to pass legislation you personally disagree with, donate to non-profit organizations that could sway your reps (no matter the party) one way or another. Or march in front of your capital building when there is legislation you want passed or blocked. Don't just email your senators or reps. Call their offices. Write them a pen'd letter. 
> 
> If only the Millennials had voted, we would have a Clinton Presidency. If only the Millennials had voted, we would have a blue Texas. And a lot of the states last night came down to less than 50,000 vote differences. New Hampshire should be a shinning example of that. We are a huge political force that is larger and more powerful than the baby bombers ever were. Your voice matters. Your friend's voices matter. My voice matters. 
> 
> This isn't over. As President Obama said today, "Keep your head up." We've made so much progress over the last eight years. And I don't plan on slipping backwards without a fight.
> 
> I love you guys. Stay safe. And take care of each other.  
> \- TheQueen


	20. Eighteen

It’s Keith’s idea because Keith is too good to him. Too kind. Too understanding.

It’s something Lance has been thinking for a while now. Sitting on his bunk and scrolling through the text messages confirming their bro-date pondering how he got here and what he’s going to do now. It’s been two days since he failed the simulation. He hasn’t been to class yet, told to rest and join again next week.

Keith has been nothing but understanding. Never pressuring him to talk about it. Not since that time they walked back from Professor Sutherland’s office. Just letting Lance know the invitation is there. And the guilt of hiding this eats at Lance even though he knows it’s for the best. Lance will do anything to keep Keith safe.

(They’re all they have left.)

His voicemail is full. His family must have been informed and he has half a mind to just delete them all. After all, he hasn’t spoken to his family in ages for all that he promised to call. (Ages? More like seven weeks, but...does that count? Does that brief time with his family count when he hasn’t seen them in three years? When he doesn’t know how to talk to them anymore?) He pulls the app up and hesitates. Red icon glaring down. Fifteen missed calls. Fifteen new voicemails. He finds himself pressing play.

 _“Dios mio, Lance.”_ It’s his mother. Of course it’s his mother. She’s crying. Voice thick and shaking. _“Lance, por favor, por favor llámenos. Diganos que estas bien. Por favor. La… la guarnición nos llamó. Nos dijeron que fuiste herido en una… simulación? Por favor, Lance.”_

“Lance!” And it’s his brother. It’s Ray. He’s angry, but Lance can hear the fear, the worry. “Lance you will pick up this fucking phone or I swear to god I will fucking fly down there and kick your hospitalized ass. Do you hear me? I will fucking do it. Pick up!”

“Lance, pick up. Please,” It’s Sarah. Lance can’t hear this. Can’t bear to hear the tears in her voice, the worry. She’s young. She’s so beautifully young. “Please, pick up. I love you. I’m worried. The Garrison said you’ll be okay, but everyone’s freaking out. Please pick up.”

 _“Lance, por favor.”_  His mother. It’s all she says. She’s still crying. He can’t listen anymore. He closes out of the app and lets the phone drop to the bed.  _He should call them_ , he thinks. Thought sluggish. He should… But he can’t. He can’t. “The Garrison has probably told them you’re all right,” Lance whispers to the ceiling. “They’ll be fine.”

Best not to make contact. Best to let him just fade out of their lives. He’s made his choice. He’ll be leaving. Best to just rip off the band aid now.

And if he doesn’t particularly believe that then maybe if he repeats it enough he will.

.

Aaron lets him into his bed that night, wraps a warm arm around Lance’s side and doesn’t complain when Lance dares to stick his cold feet against his shins. “You seeing a therapist soon?” Aaron asks.

“Closest appointment they have is in two weeks,” Lance shrugs.

Aaron sighs and combs a hand through Lance’s hair. “We’re here for you, you know. You can trust us. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

Lance nods, “I know.”

He sleeps poorly.

.

 _I’m spiraling,_  Lance thinks, slipping into his sneakers. He has fifteen minutes to meet Keith at the front entrance of the Student Center. Aaron waves goodbye as he slips on his jacket and walks out the door. The clothes felt weird. Cotton and denim. The wrong colors after wearing shades of blue for so long. The outfit he wore the day they found Shiro gone by the sixth month, leaving him with the Paladin armor and the color-coded alien clothing they’d picked up during pit stops.

Now his jacket and shirt are red. And his jeans are grey. He wonders if Keith will say anything.

When he gets to their meeting point, he smiles. Keith is wearing all blue. “Ready to go!” Lance cheers, throwing an arm around Keith’s shoulders and grinning up at Hunk.

Hunk smiles back and nods, patting Lance on the shoulder. “We were just waiting on you, slow poke,” Keith jokes, pushing Lance off of him. Lance gives him another grin and if it feels a little off than Keith either doesn’t notice or has the good grace not to say anything. “Now come on. I have plans. And the bus into town isn’t going to just wait for us.”

“It kind of sucks they only let us off campus every now and then,” Hunk says, taking a seat across the aisle as Keith and Lance sit down. “And not every weekend.”

Keith hums in agreement. “It’s easy to get stir crazy.”

“I don’t know,” Lance shrugs, “I like the routine.”

Keith looks at him strangely. Probably remembering the stupid things they’d done to pass the time between missions, endlessly floating through space. “Really?” he asks.

Lance shrugs, “It’s good to have routines.”

“I can see that,” Hunk says, “And it helps that are classes are super interesting. Shivanni and I are in this fantastic lab this semester. We’re working on a project right now that runs a series of simulations to model optimal living conditions for astronauts in space on long missions like… a mission to Pluto.”

Keith tenses slightly, just for a moment, before speaking, “That sounds pretty advanced.”

“Yeah!” Hunk is grinning now, hands gesturing as he talks. “But we really lucked out. Usually they don’t let freshman into those classes, but our test scores were good enough when a few upperclassmen dropped out we got seats.”

“That’s cause you two are just that awesome,” Lance adds. He remembers this. Hunk’s excitement and worry about being allowed to attend higher level classes. He remembers staying up late to motivate Hunk through another project after his group dropped the ball again. He remember sneaking in coffee the next day as Hunk worried about his grade and all the possible ways things could go wrong.

Lance wonders if Shivanni was his partner last time and thinks unlikely. Shivanni cared too much. She wasn’t the kind of person to leave a partner hanging, even if they were just an acquaintance. He has to wonder what changed things that they got partnered up this time.

“Shivanni is pretty great,” Hunk sighs, smile becoming found as he seems to almost look past them for a moment. Lance sits up at that and finds his smile turn into a smirk.

“Shivanni’s pretty great, huh?” Lance parrots. Keith stares at him for a moment before realization dawns.

“No way,” he mumbles, turning to Hunk. “Really?”

“What do you mean, really?” Hunk flushes, crossing his arm. Too offended to try and deny it.

“Oh not like that, big man,” Lance waves his hand. “Shivanni is a wonderful girl to have a crush on. We just weren’t expecting it.”

“Does that mean we get to get back at you two for all those married jokes?” Keith asks, feigning innocence.

Hunk’s face turns red, “Don’t you dare. She has no idea and I…” he looks down at his hands. “I think I really like her, you guys.”

Lance sobers, smirking falling away. “Of course, Hunk.” he says. “For what it’s worth I think you two would make a really cute couple.” And they would. Similar interests. Both physically affectionate. And aesthetically they could look cute together. All the ingredients for an incredibly cheesy high school romance.

“Thanks,” Hunk mumbles just as Keith stands up.

“Here’s our stop!” he says, pulling on the chain to let the bus driver know to stop. “I think you guys are really going to like this one.”

.

“You took me to an arcade,” Lance whispers, voice refusing to go higher as if it would shatter the mirage or disturb whatever holy peace that seemed to surround the authentic, early 22nd Century arcade. With the retro carpeting and red walls.

“Yeah well,” Keith blushes, “I remember you used to talk about going to an arcade”  _With Hunk_ , he doesn’t add, “All the time before so I was looking up stuff to do today and well…” he gestures to the arcade, “Here we are.”

“You’re perfect,” Lance grins, grabbing Keith and Hunk’s hands. “What are we waiting for? I have two siblings and I intend to kick your asses in skee ball.”

“I’d have you know,” Hunk says, removing his hand from Lance’s grip to point at one of the shooters, “If I am supposed to accept humiliating defeat in skee ball then I demand the right to school you two in the greatest shooter of all time.”

“The House of the Dead?” Keith reads as Lance steps forward into Hunk’s space.

“I will take that challenge,” Lance smirks. “Loser gets lunch.”

“Oh ho? I say we make this interesting,” Hunk smirks back. “Keith’s referee. He picks four games other than skee ball and House of the Dead. Loser gets lunch, dinner, and has to forfeit all his tickets.”

“Guys,” Keith rolls his eyes. But when Lance looks back, he just looks amused.

“You’re mighty confident, Garrett,” Lance says.

Hunk shrugs and steps back. Cool and composed though Lance knows better. The last time they’d done this Hunk had nearly broken a controller from how tight he’d held it. “I got my eye on a new water gun, McClain. And nothing will stand in my way.”

.

In the end it is, in the simplest terms, a slaughter. “Bullshit,” Lance cries, holstering his gun to point an accusing finger at Hunk. “I’m calling bullshit.”

Hunk just laughs, lips pulled in that all too familiar smirk. The one he always pulls out when he’s about to drag Lance to hell and back. “Or I’m just that good,” he gloats, turning to Keith, “Right Keith?”

Lance scowls as Keith takes Hunk’s side, overall far too amused at everything that has just conspired over the last few hours. When Hunk holds out his hand, Keith wastes no time high fiving him.

“You guys are awful,” Lance whines, handing over the last of his tickets to Hunk. At this point, Hunk could probably buy out the upper level of the display case if he wanted. Which is totally not fair because those should be his tickets. Since when was he a bad shot. “I think it’s rigged,” Lance whines, glaring at the machine. He’s the Marksman of Voltron! He could hit any target blind folded.

(And maybe that’s an exaggeration, but still. STILL! The principal of things stands.)

“Take your loss like a man,” Keith teases as Hunk smirk turns into a full blown grin.

“Now who’s ready for lunch?” Hunk teases, “Lance is paying after all. I saw we pick the most expensive restaurant on the block.”

“Awful,” Lance laminates as they approach the counter and Hunk picks up his coveted water gun. “Absolutely awful.”

Unfortunately, the arcade isn’t near any good restaurants other than a somewhat okay-looking pizza joint and they all agree they’d rather take a long walk than settle for okay food after eating at the Garrison cantina for the past seven weeks.

“I’m just saying,” Hunk summarizes as they turn the next corner, “That it’d be easier.”

Keith nods, sagely. “I mean yeah. But it’s also a lot safer which isn’t what we’re really going for here.”

Lance tries not to snicker too much at Hunk’s pout. “Come on, big guy.” Lance claps Hunk on the shoulder. “Let Keith have this one. I doubt either one of you are gonna out stubborn the other.”

“As if you’re any less stubborn,” Keith snaps back, but he’s smiling. And there is no real heat to any of this. It feels good. Walking and talking like this. Like they’re back in the markets of whatever planet they’ve parked on to gather supplies. Lance has missed this.

“Please,” Lance teases, “I’m the patron saint of compromise.”

Hunk snorts.

It’s as Lance opens his mouth to retaliate that he sees it. Sitting against an alley-way dumpster, a familiar white and red hoverbike he hasn’t seen in years. He turns to Keith and pokes him hard in the shoulder. “Dude!”

Keith steps away, rubbing at his arm, “Lance? What the…” He follows Lance’s line of sight before his eyes became impossibly wide. “No way…”

Hunk frowns, “Guys?”

But Lance and Keith are already crossing the street. “I can’t believe it,” Keith says, practically vibrating as he walks around the hoverbike.

“Is it the same one?” Lance whispers just as Hunk joins them in the alley.

“Is that a hoverbike?” Hunk asks, stepping around Lance to take a closer look. “What’s it doing here? These things are expensive and this looks pretty salvageable.” It’s a bit beaten up and weathered. The paint is peeling in some areas and the headlights are shattered. But the body is pretty intact.

“We can’t leave it here,” Keith says, suddenly.

“No way the Garrison is going to let us take it back,” Hunk argues. “It’s not sanctioned property.”

 “I think we know a place,” Lance says running a finger over the battered seat of Keith’s coveted hoverbike. When he looks up, Keith is practically glowing from excitement. “Right, Keith?”

Keith grins, “Oh yeah…”

Hunk stares at them for a moment before sighing and rolling his eyes. “All right,” he says, “But when this blows up in our faces, I’m calling dibs on ‘I told you so.’”

“That’s the spirit!” Lance cheers. “Now the answer is how do we get her there?”

.

The answer is simple. Hunk hotwires the bike and is pleasantly surprised to see the engine is descent enough. “It probably won’t explode,” he says with an unnecessary amount of confidence. “But we’ll take her slow.”

There was no question to who was driving. As Keith took a seat on the worn leather and Lance Climbed on one of the wings with Hunk straddling the tail. It felt familiar. It felt perfect. “You guys are insane,” Hunk laughs as Keith picks up speed the minute they clear city limits. The beautiful expanse of desert opening up around them. As if from muscle memory Keith tilts his head back as the bike turns right.

“Yeah,” Lance says, smiling back at Hunk. Eye’s bright as he starred at his best friend in the light of the noon sun. “But you love it.”

.

The shack is worse than Lance remembers, but it isn’t a stretch to assume Keith fixed the place up in the year he spent out here. “It’s not much,” Keith says, speaking what was on everyone’s mind. “But it’s a good hiding place and it’s not far from the Garrison.”

Hunk opens the door, starring into the small room Lance remember as Keith’s living room. It was barren. None of the furniture Keith had had currently there. But there was also no holes in the wall and cracks in the windows. “How did you guys find this place?” Hunk asks.

Lance tries his best to keep the panic from his face as he turned to Keith. Keith met his eye and has the nerve to just shrug.

“All right,” Hunk jokes, “I see this another Keith-and-Lance-Secret.”

“We don’t have secrets,” Keith argues as Hunk simply gives them a flat look. Lance shrugs, a bit sheepish.

Hunk rolls his eyes and turns to look out at the horizon. “I just realized we haven’t had lunch,” he says as his stomach growls. Lance blinks. Oh yeah…

“How are we getting back?” Lance asks. The bike has to stay here after all. So…

Keith frowns, following Hunk’s eyesight to the horizon. “I guess we’re walking.”

_God damn it._

.

By the time he crawls back into his bedroom, full from whatever they managed to grab from the cantina before it closed, he was more than ready to fall asleep. Sweaty and dusty and fully clothed he fell into bed with a sigh, fast asleep just as his head hit the pillow.  

When he woke it was to a scream and two warm hands holding his shoulders down as he thrashed upwards, fear sticking like molasses to the back of his throat. And it takes too long for Lance to realize its Aaron’s warm brown eyes staring down at him. Takes too long for him to will his fingers loose, little crescents just breaking skin left in his wake as he lets his hands fall to the bed. Takes too long for him to bring his heart down, to steady his breathing. So Aaron is shaking, tears in the corners of his eyes.

“S-sorry,” Lance mumbles. Tears already flowing as Aaron lets go to take a seat on his bed. And they’re both crying now. Silent steady tears as Aaron holds his hand.

“Don’t apologize, Lance,” Aaron whispers back, squeezing his hand. “I meant what I said. We’re here for you.”

Lance sniffles and nods, working his way up so he’s sitting instead of lying down. And the tears are drying. He doesn’t know what he dreamt of, but he doesn’t suppose it’s a stretch to imagine either. “Was it the simulation?” Aaron asks.

Lance nods because yes and no. After all, one could argue the simulation was simply a manifestation of his nightmare. At this he chuckles, self-deprecating and weak.  

“Do you want to talk about it?” Aaron asks.

And Lance thinks for a moment as he stares down at their joined hands. It must be after midnight, he thinks. And yet here Aaron is. Comforting him. And he owes Aaron some degree of honesty, doesn’t he? He owes Aaron a great deal. “I can’t,” Lance whispers.

“You can’t?”

Lance nods his head, “They…They threatened Keith if I talk to anyone but my team.”

Aaron takes a deep breath. “They threatened Keith,” he echoes.

Lance nods again. “I don’t know what they’ll do if… if they find out,” he chokes on a sob, shoulders shaking as he tries to keep himself from falling apart. He has to protect Keith. He has to protect Keith. He thinks about Keith’s smile as he and Hunk argued over arcade games. He thinks about Keith’s smile as they flew through the desert. He thinks about Keith’s smile and knows he will do anything to keep that smile there.

(They’re all they have left.)

Aaron takes another deep breath. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

Aaron nods and pulls away to grab his phone, “Okay. You said your team knows right?”

Lance nods as he watches Aaron type in a number.

“Then we’ll deal with this,” Aaron says. “As a team. And no one fucking threatens my friends on my watch, okay.” After a few rings, a sleepy voice answers the line. “Shivanni,” Aaron snaps as Lance can only watch him, a warm feeling settling in his stomach as he sees a familiar determination form on Aaron’s features. “Get over here. You’re not going to fucking believe this.”

* * *

 

**BONUS**

It's Team 9 and Team 10 (minus Keith and Lance!) I wanted to share their character designs and figured I wouldn't make a new chapter. Both Lauren and Vicky are twin sisters and I did my best to make it look like they’re related, but they’re not identical. Lauren’s hair is dyed. They are also Jewish and Eastern European. Sophia is Malaysian and Muslim. And Markus is Irish. I tried my best to capture the different facial features of each ethnic group and I hope it came across well!

 [I also have a speed painting of this drawing if you're interested!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h_rVo4b3R2M)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a longer chapter, but I wanted to make sure I kept the plot moving. Hope you guys enjoyed some ole' Hunk and Lance bounding. It was a lot of fun getting to write them just having fun and being teenagers! I personally really like the idea of Hunk being just as competitive as Lance when he's really into something. I figure it's something they probably bounded over in the first timeline!
> 
> And as always, please let me know what you think! I really appreciate your feedback!!!
> 
> PS: Thank you to my beautiful gf, TheMaelStromWrites, for translating everything into Spanish!! 
> 
> Translations:  
> 1.Oh god, Lance. Lance, please, please pick up. Tell us you’re okay. Please. The… The Garrison called. Said you’ve been hurt in a- a simulation? Lance please.  
> 2.Lance please.


	21. Ninteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hiatus is finished!

Keith and Lance started their lessons with Shiro the next day. Shiro takes one look at them standing in his office, both prim and proper in their uniforms, and told them they were heading off campus. Keith is fresh out of class and Lance has just woken a few hours previously to grab a late lunch before spending the rest of his day walking around campus, bored and left with too much time to think and worry while his friends were stuck in class. The knowledge that they can only do so much so fast driving him crazy.

After Aaron had called Shivanni, she’d snuck into their dorm room far too easily and curled up next to Lance. They’d spent the rest of the night talking; brainstorming what to do next now that Keith was in danger and just comforting each other. Reminding each other that they wouldn’t be able to hurt Keith without consequences.

“I’m glad you told us,” Shivanni whispers when it is time for her to leave. Roll call due in a few hours and the sun just starting to peek through the clouds. “Thank you for trusting us.”

Lance hadn’t known what to say and so had said nothing.

Now he sits next to Keith in the back of Shiro’s small, Garrison-issued hovercar. Just big enough for three people if you squeeze. The weight of his secret sitting like a weight around his throat for all that he knows it is for the best. Watching Keith smile as he talks with Shiro is the only thing making it easy to breath.

“So how did you join the Garrison,” Keith asks as if he doesn’t already know.

“I was recruited,” Shiro explains, calmly turning left onto the next street. His driving is so much more…standard relative to his flying. While Keith tended to drive like he flew: wild. “From what I understand you went through a similar process, Keith.”

Lance turns to look at Keith when Keith squeezes his hand.

“My grandparents—my legal guardians—had passed away when I was 15. It was either the state or the Garrison and thanks to my grades in public school I was to be awarded a scholarship for the standard three years it took to finish the program before starting my internship. Luckily,” Here Lance can see Shiro grinning in the rearview mirror, “I was able to complete my studies in two and started my internship recently.”

“Have you ever taught classes like this before?” Lance asks. He knows all about how Shiro completed his studies early. A fantastic flier. Maybe not as gifted as Keith in terms of raw talent, but an incredibly hard worker and diligent student. He’d been Lance’s idol for years.

Lance had heard of the Garrison program when he was ten and his family had just settled in Florida after his mother decided to retire from the Air Force. He’d always known he wanted to fly. Flying was control. It was freedom. But taking one look at the recruitment posters around town had made him realize he didn’t just want to fly. He wanted to see the stars. Problem was he’d always been a poor student until then. He knows now it was fear of failure that had crippled him. But his dreams of going to the Garrison had inspired him to overcome that. But he was never an ideal student. It wouldn’t be until he was 13 and heard of Takashi Shirogane, youngest graduate in the history of the Garrison at 17, that he decided to take things seriously.

He’d never worked as hard as he had those two years before finally getting admitted to the Garrison. And without that, he would have never have met Hunk, or Keith, or Pidge. He would not have been there that night to see Shiro return to Earth in a stolen Galran escape pod. He would have never have met Blue. Even then, without ever meeting him, Shiro had been leading Lance.

“No,” Shiro admits, laughing slightly as he pulls into the parking lot of a Space Beans. “I did intern for a year at a military base in Florida, actually, and spent the summer and the beginning of this year working as a teacher’s aid. But you two will be my first full time students seeing as this whole curriculum is very experimental. We’ve never had two freshmen in Fighter Class before,” Shiro explains shutting off the car engine.

Lance unbuckles his seatbelt and slips out of the car, taking care to grab his backpack from where he’d thrown it on the floor. Looking around at the kids their age hanging around the entrance and sitting in the windows, Lance is only grateful Shiro had let them change into normal clothes. Their orange and white uniforms would have left them sticking out like a sore thumb.

“So what are we doing?” Keith asks, stepping inside, sticking oddly close to Lance. There is a moment where they meet eyes and Keith gives him a small smile. “Don’t be nervous,” he mouths.

“Honestly I’d like this first session to be us getting to know each other,” Shiro explains, grabbing a seat in the corner by one of the large windows. Someone waves to Shiro and he waves back. “Not anything like school or skill levels. I can read that on your transcripts. But just… other stuff.” He shrugs a little and it’s the first time Lance realizes Shiro might be just as nervous as they were.

“That sounds good,” Lance steps in, taking of his sweater.

Keith frowns and reaches forward to grab the hem of the shirt, “Isn’t that my shirt?”

Lance looks down at the stripped black and white tank top he was wearing, “Oh yeah…I must of borrowed it to sleep in and forgot to give it back.”

Keith… pouts? “I’ve been looking for that.”

“Sorry.” Lance shrugs.

“I’m going to head to the restroom really quick,” Shiro says suddenly, staring at them a little strange before handing them his credit card. “Can you buy me a Large Regular? And don’t be afraid to get something for yourselves.”

.

Lance and Keith step into line. “So, this is weird,” Keith starts, looking at Lance. “Or is it just me?”

Lance shrugs, staring up at the menu. _What should I get?_

“I just…I’m not used to Shiro being nervous,” Keith continues, “I mean I’m sure he was but I just don’t remember it. He’s always just been…”

“Shiro,” Lance supplies.

Keith hums, looking down, turning the card in his hand before looking up at the menu. “What are you getting?”

“Something you’ll hate,” Lance jokes, “I hate coffee.”

“Really! I didn’t know that,” Keith says, looking up at Lance with wide eyes.

Lance shrugs again, “It’s not like you had the chance to learn my coffee tastes in space.”

“Yeah…” Keith says quietly, “Yeah I guess I didn’t…”

.

Shiro came back a few minutes after they take their seats at the table. “Oh thanks,” Shiro says, opening the lid and pausing. “Did you add milk already?”

“Oh! Uh…” Keith shrugs, “Sorry habit.”

Shiro takes a tentative sip and raises an eyebrow in surprise. “Oh wow…It’s just like how I’d make it?”

“Really?!” And Lance tries to not snicker at Keith’s slightly higher voice, “I had no idea.”

Shiro sets the cup to the side, “So how about some ice breakers?”

.

Halfway to his dorm room, Lance receives a text message from his brother. He spends a good fifteen seconds staring at the little white and green message: “please call”. No punctuation. No capitalization. Nothing to imply what his brother might want.

Lance debates putting his phone away, pretending not to see it. Before a stone settles in his stomach and he finds himself swiping to his phone app before he can think too much about it.

He tries to pretend he isn’t as relieved as he is when his brother doesn’t pick up.

.

Lance tries to not feel too nervous as he watches everyone slowly pile into Shivanni’s dorm room. The only dorm room large enough to house everyone comfortably with the added bonus of being central enough in terms of location that it would be easy to sneak back out if necessary. Shivanni, Aaron, and himself take the bed while Markus and Lauren take the desk. Lauren on the desk itself. Markus on the chair. They’re going to need to talk fast. They had an hour until curfew.

“These are my friends,” Lance introduces. He’d told them he was bringing something new when he managed to catch Markus in the hall but that was all he’d been willing to risk at the time. “Shivanni, Aaron. Guys, this is my team. Lauren-“ Lauren waves, “And Markus.”

“Call me Mark,” Mark smiles.

“You never told me to call you Mark,” Lance frowns. He isn’t sure if he is hurt but he is definitely something.

“When did we have time,” Marku-Mark shrugs, “One minute we’re in a mission the next we’re almost dying and now this… It’s been a long week.”

Which…fair. He isn’t sure what he wants to expect come Monday. “To think it was my first day of Fighter Class,” Lance smiles weakly before looking down at his knees. Next to him, Aaron leans in close.

Lauren clears her throat awkwardly, gathering everyone’s attention. “So…are you guys really ready for this? No offense meant, but you’re kids. We’re planning on going against the Garrison…the consequences…” she sighs, “They could be more severe than you realize.”

There are circles under her eyes. The same dark circles both Lance and Mark share. It is clear they’ve all been thinking plenty about the consequences.

Shivanni is the first to break the silence. “Lance is our friend,” she says, gripping Lance’s hand and holding tight. “We’ve got his back.”

Lance feels Aaron nod against his shoulder.

Lance clears his throat and tries not to think about the prickle of tears in his eyes, “Thanks guys.”

Lauren observes them for a moment before smiling faintly. “All right, Pilot. What’s the plan?”

“It’s still the same,” Lance starts, “But now we’ve got options. Iverson knows something but I doubt it stops with him. He’s our entry point. From there we follow the chain of command to whoevers pulling the strings. I haven’t…I haven’t said too much about what happened in the sim but you guys deserve to know.” He takes a deep breath, “It wasn’t just a flight simulation. We were on the ground. And for some reason the Garrison was testing us on how we reacted to this Alien species called the Galra. And…and it was intense. Not a normal sim at all. Way too detailed. If we find more about these Galra,” And this Lance has rehearsed: how he is going to explain the Galra and their importance, “We’ll find out about what they want from us and how to keep Keith safe.”

“And my sister,” Lauren adds.

“And each other,” Mark reminds them all.

Lance nods, “Right. So step one, Iverson. We need access to his office and then his computer.”

“It’s government property, Lance,” Shivanni reminds him, “It’s not going to be easy to just…break in. We’re going to need equipment. Hacking tools… A secure way to communicate… Info on what kind of firewalls I might need to get around to access encrypted data. It’s not like he’s going to have a folder on his desktop labeled ‘Galra.’”

“You’re going to get around?” Lauren asks.

“Shivanni’s a tech wizard,” Aaron grins, “If anyone can do it, she can.”

Shivanni flushes, a pleased little smile on her face, “Thanks. But I don’t think I’m going to be able to do it on my own. Hunk’s a genius in his own right. I say we bring him in.”

“Another friend,” Lance clarifies at Mark’s confused expression.

Mark frowns, “The more people who know…”

“We’re going to need him,” Shivanni argues, “Lance, you know I’m right.”

Lance frowns but slowly nods. No matter how much he wants to keep Hunk safe, she’s right. Hunk is a genius. If anyone could help Hunk could. And for a moment Lance is reminded of all the times he’d seen Hunk and Pidge develop tech to break into the Galra databases and nodded faster, “You’re right.”

He turns to Lauren and Mark, “They’re both in the upperclassmen level engineering classes. We’re going to need Hunk and Shivanni.”

Mark doesn’t look pleased but he relents. Lance has to wonder why they’re letting him take the lead despite being older and for a moment he doubts them before the thought leaves his stomach sour. He remembers the expression of pain on Mark’s face, Lauren’s sobs… No way they’re working with Iverson. They were just as much victims of this whole mess as he and Keith were.

“I’ve got a conspiracy theorist for a cousin,” Aaron speaks up, “I’ll get on him if he knows anything about the ‘Galra.’ It might not be reliable at first but he’s got a way of searching the deep web that I don’t. And I know a few guys who sneak out all the time. They’ve got the guard schedule memorized. I’m sure they’ll be able to get me a timetable or something so we can figure out when to hit Iverson’s office.”

“Okay,” Lauren nods, “Adding to the equipment, some way to mess with the cameras and our tablets so we can hid our position. Meeting regularly at Shivanni’s dorm is going to make people suspicious. On top of that, Mark and I are heading out in a week to start interning for the rest of the semester at our assigned bases. If you can get us some way to send you information without getting caught I bet there’s stuff we can learn that isn’t going to be accessible at a school.”

“What are you thinking?” Mark presses.

“Intelligence,” Lauren clarifies, “Or…I guess blackmail. I don’t know about you, but I need a contingency plan if this goes south.”

For a moment they all fall silent, worry heavy in the air before Lance takes a deep breath, “Okay…okay. We can do this. Shivanni talk to Hunk. It’s almost curfew and I’m not ready to start taking any crazy risqué just yet. When you can, Shivanni let me know what you’re going to need and I’ll do my best to get my hands on it. Same with you three,” he looks at Mark and Lauren before turning to Aaron. “I’ll do my best to get you all any necessary supplies.”

He’d haggled, stolen, and bartered enough during his days at war to know how to get his hands on things he shouldn’t have. Hunk and he’d always been the ones to scope out the markets, with Keith coming along as muscle since Shiro’s face was too easily recognizable from his days as the Champion. He might not have any contacts here on Earth, but he’d find them. He knows what to look for.

“Good talk team,” Lauren grins, already hoping off the desk. Lance glances up at the clock. 20 to curfew. Good timing. “I say we meet again once we get Hunk in to report and fill him in. In the meantime, Mark and I will get our assigned bases and we can start doing some digging.”

Mark nods and stands. “Just…stay safe, okay. We’ve got a long way to go before we want to start attracting attention to ourselves.”

Lance nods along with the others despite the heavy weight in his stomach. Despite his hope, he is quite certain they already have some unwanted attention on them. The only hope was to ensure it didn’t increase.

They were going to have to be careful. Very, very careful.

.

Shiro sips quietly from his cup of tea as he slowly stirs the pasta sauce. He thought today’s session had gone well. Learning the two were in a relationship had surprised him but he could respect their attempts at secrecy. The Garrison with its unnecessary competition could stress any relationship. Shiro knows enough couples who’d broken up under the pressure. Perhaps they just wanted to keep something for themselves seeing as the school seemed to be watching them. Particularly higher members of the staff.

More so than they’d ever done with Shiro despite Shiro’s early graduation and test scores. Certainly he’d never had a faculty member argue as passionately on his behalf as Iverson had done for Lance. To stake one’s career on the potential of a single boy…

Well, Shiro can certainly say Iverson is dedicated to his students. Shiro can only hope to emulate that now that he has students of his own to care for. He is excited by the prospect. Two students just to himself so early in his career! Yes Shiro adored space and space exploration but there is something that makes him yearn for a classroom full of hopeful minds.

Draining the water from the pasta pot, he slowly starts adding the tomato sauce. It’s a new recipe Matt has been raving about and Shiro is excited to try it. When he has thoroughly mixed the pasta and sauce he turns off the heat and served himself a bowl. The rest would be for lunch.

Grabbing his tea and his food, he headed to the living room to unwind in front of the TV. After that he’ll write his reports on today and head to bed. Keith, in particular, he feels he will need to keep an eye on. Unfortunately it seems the boy is nervous around Shiro. He is going to need to do something to correct that. Maybe some one-on-one sessions. Though he seemed thoroughly attached to Lance… Not anything to be concerned about though, just young love.

He’ll just have to keep his eye out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Everyone! And Happy New Year!!
> 
> So guess what this means! That's right. I'm going to be updating again. I want to thank you all for your patients!! I took some time to take a step back and really examine this story and rework the pacing of this final arc a bit so hopefully that hiatus wasn't a complete waste. 
> 
> Either way, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! The plan is to update and update frequently. And as always, please let me know what you think!
> 
> Extra notes:
> 
> I will now be posting updates about this story and other voltron content I create on my twitter: @HuvraM. 
> 
> I don't know if they fixed the email system but ideally that will help solve the issue of not receiving updates for this story!


	22. Twenty

Aaron wakes before Lance that Monday. It’s rare that he does. Lance is, surprisingly, an early riser. Luckily, an incredibly considerate roommate, tending to stay quiet until Aaron wakes by himself or if it’s time for roll call. But nonetheless, it is rare for Aaron to rise before Lance. And yet here he is.

Awake just before the sun begins its journey towards morning, staring at his sleeping roommate, illuminated only by the solitary street lamp diligently shining through their blinds.

Not for the first time Aaron thinks, if things had been different he could have fallen in love with Lance McClain. But Lance will always be in love with Keith. Whether he is ready to acknowledge it or not. In the same way Aaron knows Shivanni has more than a small crush on Hunk for all that she argues otherwise. In the same way Aaron knows that Keith is in love with Lance for all that Lance is blind to it.

It’s in the way Lance goes out of his way to make Keith smile. In the way Lance throws himself between any known danger and Keith, no matter the risk to himself. Aaron knows Lance will never be as happy with someone as he will be with Keith.

But that does not keep his heart from fluttering whenever Lance leans against him or smiles for him or confides in him or… sleeps in his bed. Aaron knows it is just a crush. But it could have been something else if he gave himself a chance.

He turns over and pulls his phone from its charging station by the head of his bed. He has two missed calls from his sister and he debates getting out of bed to return them before deciding he was too comfy and too warm to move.

For a moment, he wills all his problems away. His father and the coma. His mother and his sister and their financial worries. It was hard getting him into school this year, fear that he’d have to take a year or two off because of tuition money leaving him terrified that there will be a point where he will need to drop out before he can snatch his degree. Fear that his dreams will become too much of a financial burden.

He’d done his best. Gotten the best scholarship he could. If he’d been like Lance or Keith…well… Well, maybe his life would be different. He’d have a better scholarship. He wouldn’t have to worry if he was cut out for this life.

But he’s not Lance or Keith. He’s Aaron. And he’s long made his peace with that. He knows how he comes across. Knows that he can be annoying. And it’s nice to have friends who don’t mind that. Likes having friends who rely on him. He’s always wanted to be that person: a pillar people can rely on.

Lance relies on him. Lance trusts him.

One day soon, Aaron will trust Lance with all of this. Maybe once it’s all over (and he prays for the happy ending of this story, pulls out the tesbih on Fridays just like his mother taught him) or before that once Lance is in a better place.

He doesn’t want to add to his stress, not if he can help it.

.

Shivanni corners Hunk after class as they break for their free hour for lunch.

“Soooooo,” she starts, grinning.

“So?” Hunk echoes here, amusement clear on his face. And that’s one thing Shivanni can appreciate about him. He is an easy read, an open book: too emotional to bother hiding.

Kind of like her.

“You wanna know a secret?” she presses, steering them away from the professors and students and out towards the green houses. The tropical one because that was Hunk’s favorite. Apparently the wet heat reminded him of home even if it wasn’t quite the same. They spend many study sessions there despite the bugs and the way the humidity ruins her hair. But it makes Hunk happy and she likes his smile.

“Okay?” Hunk says as they enter the door, immediately shedding his first layer of uniform. Jacket tied around his waist.

She follows and drops her stuff on the ground. “What I’m about to tell you, you can’t tell anyone.”

“I know what a secret is, Shivanni,” Hunk jokes.

Shivanni sobers and sits on the ground, patting the area next to her for Hunk to follow. “I’m serious, Hunk,” she whispers, leaning in close. She pauses and looks around. Alone. Just like she’d thought. Everyone else gone back to the dorms or made a head start towards the cafeteria, “What I’m about to tell you could get us expelled. Or worse… in jail.”

Hunk freezes, looking at her with wide eyes. Panic starting to set in and she kicks herself, tripping over her words to fix her mistake, “Not yet. We haven’t been caught. But if we are….”

“Shivanni,” Hunk hisses, “if you’re in trouble, I will help you. We can go to one of the professors. Commander Miranda or Professor Iverson.”

“No!” she snaps and then repeats quieter, “No. It…” She drops her voice even lower, “Professor Iverson threatened Lance with Keith.”

_“What?”_

She shushes him and continues. “We’re trying to figure out what’s going on and how to protect Keith. But to do that we’re going to have to break, like… a lot of rules. And we need your help.”

“We, we,” Hunk frowns. And at some point they’d started to hold hands and his grip is starting to cut off her circulation. If it were any other circumstance, she’d be too busy blushing to focus. “Who is we?”

“Lance, me, Aaron,” Shivanni whispers, “and Lance’s team: Lauren and Mark. It’s about the flight simulation they went through. The one that put Lance in the hospital.”

“Oh my god,” Hunk whispers before letting go of her hand to grab his face, “oh my god oh my god oh my god. I don’t… I can’t….”

“Please, Hunk,” Shivanni urges, “we need to protect our friends.”

He takes a deep shuddering breath and holds it. For a moment they sit in silence, the sounds of the forest, a nearby waterfall and her own shaky breaths the only thing she can hear. “Okay,” he says, letting the breath go and dropping his hands from his face. When he looks at her, he only looks determined, “Okay. I can help you. I can tell Keith--”

She cuts him off. “Lance says we shouldn’t tell Keith.”

Hunk frowns. “It concerns him.”

She shrugs. “Lance is pretty insistent on it and, I mean, he has a better understanding of what’s going on then we do.”

Hunk doesn’t stop frowning, clearly not content with that answer. “I’ll talk to him about it. But you have my support.”

“Good.” She grins. “I don’t think I could do this without you.”

The following blush makes her heart flutter.

.

It only hits Hunk later what he’s agreed to do when Keith comes to him with a smile and a request to hang out. “I can’t,” Hunk says, thinking of Shivanni and their apparently secret meeting.

It’s evening now. Soon they’ll have dinner and after dinner some secret meeting in Shivanni’s room where they’d be letting him in on the plan. It wouldn’t be the whole group. Just Lance and Shivanni and Aaron. But apparently they had tasks they needed to get done and things he needed to know before he could do them.

But usually Keith and Hunk would spend the night in the library. Sometimes Lance would join him. Or Shivanni. Or Aaron on the rare days he didn’t whole himself in his room to cram. Keith never seemed to study too hard, happy to read fiction novels and pass the time working on his origami or sketching or music remixing or whatever hobby Keith had decided to master. But when you tend to be a genius at your studies, Hunk is sure it leaves you far too much free time.

(It could be disheartening to see someone that good be that good. But Hunk hadn’t gotten to the Garrison because he was a quitter. And if nothing else, he was determined to see this an inspiration than a detriment.)

“How come?” Keith asks.

“Ah….” Hunk finds his cheeks turning red as he searches for an excuse, any excuse, “Going to hang out with Shivanni….”

“Oh!” Keith smiles. “I can come.”

“In her room,” Hunk rushes to add.

Keith pauses for a moment before his smile slowly turns to a smirk and he raises a single eyebrow. “Her room…Hunk! You didn’t tell me you made a move! Way to go!”

“Ah…yeah,” Hunk grins, hoping it doesn’t come across as weak as it feels.

Keith claps him on the shoulder. “I’m rooting for you two! I’ll just try and find Lance tonight for a study session. See you?”

Hunk waves as Keith runs off and tries to fight that sinking stone in his stomach. Keith wouldn’t be able to find someone to hang out with tonight…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think!


	23. Twenty One

Lance tries not to cower as he enters the classroom to the feeling of all eyes in the room watching his every move.

“They’re staring,” he whispers to Keith, haunted by a surreal feeling of déjà vu as Keith brings them to the front of the class. The sea of students parts just as easily as before. “I… I don’t know if I can do this.”

Keith holds his head high and pulls Lance closer. “You deserve to be here, Lance. Let them stare.” He says as if it were as simple as that. “They have every right to be jealous.”

“Jealous?” Lance mumbles, looking at Iverson and then down to where Keith has yet to let go of his hand. He twists his wrists, slots his fingers between Keith’s and smiles.

“You managed to survive an intermediate simulation on your first day,” Keith brags, waving over his team once he spots them. “That’s something to be proud of.”

_ Oh... okay. _

“This is Sophia,” Keith introduces, pointing to the shorter girl wearing a hijab, “and this is Vicki, Lauren’s sister.”

“Thank you.” Vicki steps forward, grabbing Lance’s free hand in hers. “For taking care of my sister.”

Lance thinks back to the way Lauren had dragged him screaming and crying into the escape pod. “Your sister is the one who saved my life,” Lance clarifies. “I...If that had been real, I wouldn’t be standing here without her.”

“You all make a good team.” Vicki smiles. “That’s good.”

“We’re not that bad off,” Sophia jokes. But there is something in the way she looks at Lance, like she’s trying to understand something. “But you all worked fantastically for your first time. They actually referenced Mark’s work on the ship in one of our classes.”

“Oh!” Lance says, smiling as his mind scrambles. Work?

“It was either really dumb or really smart going into through that atmosphere; I would have suggested we pull back,” Sophia admits. “The fact that Mark was able to calculate that you’d land safely is pretty impressive.”

“No way Keith would have let you turn back,” Lance says. “Mr. Hot Head over here would have gone hurtling in.”

Keith huffed as if offended but then smiles. “Yeah... okay. Probably.”

“How about a competition?” Sophia asks, just as Lance spies Lauren and Mark entering the room.

“Competition?” Lance asks.

“Us against your team,” Sophia clarifies. Keith throws her a sharp look that she ignores while Vicki stands back, curious.

“I heard something about a competition!” Lauren greets. “I’m always down to kick my sister’s ass.”

Vicki snorts, “I’d like to see you try, baby sis.”

Lauren scowls. “By like four minutes.”

“Still counts!”

“Will we even be in the same simulation?” Mark asks.

“Who cares?” Sophia says. “Our team versus yours. Winner gets bragging rights. Who gets the fastest time!”

Lance frowns. “I don’t…”

Keith squeezes his hand. “What think you can’t beat me?” And there’s a tone in that voice. A tone that Lance is very familiar with. “Are you saying you’re scared?”

Lance narrows his eyes. “Are you calling me a coward?”

Keith smirks.

“Ooooo! You’re on.”

.

It is undeniably nerve-wracking stepping into the simulation again. The class’ stares feels like a weight around his ankles as he forces his legs forward. Lauren squeezes his shoulder for support. Mark gives him a smile.

He makes his way to the pilot seat and tries to fight down the shaking in his hands. Lance closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

“We got this,” Lauren says gently. “We can do this.”

Mark shifts in his seat, “But if you can’t… that’s okay. You can take your time, Lance.”

Lance exhales and opens his eyes.  _ Flying is freedom. Flying is control. _ He’s not going to let some stupid nerves beat him. Not now. Not ever. “I’m not going to let Keith beat us.”

.

Lance highfives Keith on his way out of the simulation. “Have fun beating that, Mullet man,” Lance teases.

Keith smirks. “Oh I plan to,” he calls just as the doors of the simulation closes. 

Lance feels his smile waiver for a moment as he looks up at the leader board--6 minutes 7 seconds--before Shiro claps him softly on the back, “Can I talk to you?” 

Lance startles before catching himself. His hands are shaking. When did that start? ( _ When did that stop? _ ) “Sure!” Lance turns and grins, letting Shiro lead him out of the classroom. The stares follow them through the door. “What can I do for yah?”

Shiro smiles reassuringly, “You’re not in trouble. I just wanted to talk to you about our session last weekend.”

Lance nods and relaxes against the wall. He’d had a good time that session. Shiro is an easy person to talk to now that he’s gotten over his hero worship. Not that he doesn’t respect the guy. Oh no. He respects Shiro far more than he did when he was a kid because he knows Shiro now--really knows him: Shiro, the Black Paladin, and Shiro, his friend. Soon-to-be-friend hopefully. “Yeah, sure!”

Shiro shoves his hands in his pocket, “I noticed Keith tends to talk to you and about you a lot.” Shiro starts, “And I was just curious about your relationship,” he takes a moment to make sure Lance is meeting his eye, “I don’t want to make any assumptions.”

Shiro let’s the words sink in slowly as Lance frowns. Assumptions? And.. _ oh! _ Lance blushes, “Keith and I aren’t...I mean not there is anything wrong with that of course. I mean I am...I am bisexual, but Keith and I aren’t dating!”

It’s Shiro’s turn to blush. “Oh! I’m sorry… you two are just so close.”

Lance nods. _ Yes, yes they are. _ “Yeah. Well we have to look out for each other, right?”

Shiro nods slowly, “Right...of course.”

.

Keith bites the end of his eraser and tries to force the words on the page to make sense. How did he do this before? And what did any of this have to do with flying?

Beside him, Hunk’s pencil keeps a steady pace across the table, the numbers and letters appearing as if magic.

“How… are you doing that?” Keith groans, letting go of his pencil to glare at the paper.

“Unlike some people,” Hunk jokes, “I pay attention in class.”

Keith sighs and leans back against his chair. “You’re awful and I hate you.”

From across the library, Keith spies a few girls glancing over at him and giggling. He rolls his eyes. He had forgotten how annoying teenagers could be.

“No you don’t,” Hunk says. No teasing. No sarcasm. Just a matter-of-fact statement. And Keith smiles. _ No he doesn’t. _

It’s weird sitting here in the Garrison next to Hunk Garrett, Lance’s best friend and soon to be yellow leg of Voltron. In space, there had always been a sort of understanding. Hunk was Lance’s friend. And they were friends, of course. Keith and Hunk were close. But there had been a line, always. Pidge and Hunk and Lance. And then Shiro and Keith. Simply because that is how it had worked out. And they were a team and a family but the past was always going to be there.

Now there is no line. In many ways that Keith doesn’t like to examine too thoroughly one could argue Keith was closer to Hunk. They shared more classes and spoke often. Not that Lance didn’t join them when he could or that Hunk and Lance didn’t get along but they weren’t as close as Keith remembers them, just that things were different.

Keith can only hope they will recover that.

Suddenly Hunk’s phone buzzes and Keith looks away from the ceiling to see Hunk quickly grabbing his phone and swiping it away. “What was that?”

“Um…” Hunk shrugs. “Just Lance.”

“Oh?” Keith frowns when he notices Hunk isn’t meeting his eye. He sits up straighter. “What’d he say?”

“Nothing,” Hunk says quickly before biting his lip. “Nothing much. I mean… he wants to hang out later tonight.”

Later tonight? But weren’t they going to hang out after dinner? As if reading his mind, Hunk smiles sheepishly. “We can hang out later… right?”

Keith shrugs. Why isn’t Hunk inviting him to come? And this isn’t the first time Hunk has done this. Or Lance. And maybe Keith is being paranoid. It’s only been a few days, a few missed meetups or canceled plans. This doesn’t have to mean anything other than the fact that Hunk and Lance re getting closer. And isn’t Keith just hoping they would be able to become closer again? He doesn’t have the right to complain…

“Yeah.” Keith smiles and he hopes it feels genuine. “Of course we can, big guy.”

Hunk smiles, relieved. “So, do you want help on that homework problem?”

Keith nods as he forces that odd feeling down. He doesn’t have the right to complain.

He really doesn’t.

.

There had been a weight to that statement, Shiro recalls, thinking back to his conversation with Lance as he drives home that day. It’s had stuck. The way Lance had looked, the tone of his voice. Shiro is certain Lance hadn’t meant to let it slip or had meant it as a passing remark. But Lance isn’t a very good liar… Or not with Shiro at least. 

And the way he’d phrased it… “Look out for each other..” as if this isn’t a passing thing, but something they have to focus on. Something that Lance is worried about? But what? He thinks about the few brief moments he’d forced himself to see before his fear of hospitals had become to much--of Lance lying fast asleep in the hospital bed as Keith clutches his hand--and has to wonder…

Is someone trying to hurt his students?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the love! Hope you enjoyed this chapter and please let me know what you think.


	24. Twenty Two

Hunk watches for a moment with unabashed focus as Shivanni’s hands flies across the keyboard. The communicators they’re building are state of the art. Cobbled together by parts Lance has mysteriously gotten his hands on without fail. Some even military grade. (And he really doesn't want to know how Lance got his hands on that).

“Your starring,” Shivanni teases. And she has a beautiful blush, Hunk thinks as he watches the color flare to life over the bridge of her nose to stain her cheeks. 

“You’re interesting,” Hunk says.

She blushes some more. “You’re awful,” she complains. Before pushing her laptop to the side to look at what he’s doing, “How’s it goin?”

He turns to glare down at the flashdrive he’s making. Apparently nothing can be traced back to them, not even the flashdrive they’ll be storing the files they hope to steal from Iverson in, which makes sense considering everything they’re risking in this operation: their futures and their families and their freedom. 

The thought of prison bars and his mothers’ disappointed faces keep him up at night.

“Hey, Shivanni?” Hunk asks, setting his tools down to give her his full attention.

“Yeah?” she asks looking up from her phone. Probably texting Lance or Aaron. Not about this though. All communication concerning this project has been verbal or talked about in a roundabout way. “Let’s hang out at seven” instead of “secret meeting at seven!” That kind of thing.

“Why...why do you trust Lance so much?” Hunk finally asks. It’s a question that has been weighing on his mind for a while now. He likes Lance, thinks Lance is a cool guy to have fun with. A bit on the quiet side sometimes and scarily introspective, but so was Keith so he didn’t have a problem with it. He wants to be friends with Lance because, after all, Hunk cares about Keith and Keith clearly adores Lance.

(He thinks back to that moment in the hospital when he’d walked in to see Keith crying as he clutched Lance’s hand and his heart hurts.)

But he doesn’t understand this charm Lance seems to possess. He takes a look around the room at the others during their meetings and marvels. Here are incredibly talented and gifted men and women willing to do anything to stop the threat to their friends--it’s the same reason Hunk is here after all--but who are willing to take Lance’s words at face value. Who don’t question where Lance gets these parts or how he seems to just….know. So what has Lance done to win their loyalty? What has Lance done to gain so much respect?

“He’s my friend,” Shivanni shrugs as if it is that simple. But it’s not. It can’t be… 

Hunk frowns, “That’s it. You’re not going to question him at all?”

“Hunk?”

“I just…” Hunk searches for the words, “I don’t understand why you all don’t see something off here.”

It is Shivanni’s turn to frown, “Of course there is something wrong here,” she gestures to the work in front of him, “We’re trying to spy on the US Government. On an international organization that has some of the strongest military backing in the world. There is something very obviously wrong here.”

“No…” Hunk sighs and throws his hands out, fingers spread like he’s trying to grasp something, “I...Why can’t we tell Keith?”

Shivanni sighs, “Keith must be being watched. Just like Vicki.”

“Yeah, but how does Lance know that for sure?” Hunk argues, “Shouldn’t we at least try?”

Shivanni shrugs, “I’m sure Lance has his reasons, Hunk.”

And now Hunk is starting to feel frustrated, but he doesn’t want to be angry at Shivanni. Never Shivanni. “Why do you trust him so much?”

“He’s my friend, Hunk,” Shivanni argues, “And he has never given me a reason to not trust him.” She turns her body to Hunk now as if with simple closeness she could impress upon him the seriousness of his words, “He will die for us, Hunk. If his friends are in trouble, Lance McClain will do anything for us. In that simulation, he almost died for Mark and Lauren. And if that isn’t justification for us to trust him. I don’t know what is.”

Hunk bites his lip and looks away. “I just...I don’t know…” Because Lance McClain is a good friend and a good person, but that doesn’t mean he’s always right. 

Keith deserves to know. And if Hunk can’t convince them of that, he’ll tell himself. 

.

For the fourth time that week, Keith finds himself alone. His phone on it’s lowest brightness as he curls up under the covers. He has homework to do. Quizzes to study for. But the thought of getting up and getting out of bed and turning on the lights and getting to work fills Keith with so much dread that he’d much rather spend a few more hours curled up under his covers doing nothing.

He scrolls through the text messages he’d sent Lance for the hundredth time that hour and wonders what went wrong. He knows Lance isn’t avoiding him, not like before. He’d promised after all. They joke around in class and at lunch. They are prone holding hands (and he’s started to really like that habit) and sharing space, sitting close enough to touch thighs or shoulders. So it’s nothing like before when Lance ran whenever he was in the room or refused to meet his eye. But yet…

He reads the text messages and has to wonder… Has...has Lance grown bored with him? Now that he has more friends, lots of people who understand how amazing he is… Now that he’s finally getting the recognition he deserves, does Lance no longer need him? But…

Lance isn’t like that. Lance won’t just leave Keith like that. Keith knows that. Knows they have so much shared history and a hard fought friendship binding them close. But now with more people to hold his attention, maybe Lance just doesn’t have time for him anymore?

Keith blinks back tears and curls up tighter, pressing his phone to his chest. After all, why would Lance want to hang out with him when he has Hunk and Shivanni and Aaron and his new team, Lauren and Mark? Lance doesn’t need him. Not like how Keith needs Lance. Lance has his family, his new friends. And maybe Lance only stays because Lance is unfailingly loyal. Their Blue Paladin through and through. 

And who is Keith to hold Lance to that? Who is Keith to force Lance to waste his time? He takes a deep breath and rolls onto his back, turning off his phone before letting it fall to his bed. He doesn’t have the right to complain, after all. 

Lance deserves better anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter but an important one! I've been leaving small bread crumbs about Keith's depression throughout the story so I hope this payed off for everyone. I've been really nervous about writing this one. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think!


	25. Twenty Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> long time no see!

Shiro watches as Keith slowly steps out of the simulator. He’d been subdued all morning. Flighty. Spacey. Eyes darting back and forth as his friends tried to catch his attention. When Shiro had approached him he’d noticed the fatigue, a late night’s rest not that uncommon for students at this stage in school as they worry about midterms. But there had been something off. When Shiro had said hello, there was no enthusiasm or nervousness. Keith had been… oddly dull. 

And now this. 

His flying was sloppy. His teamwork minimal. Shiro watches Sophia and Vicki share worried looks before Lance steps into the picture. Lance doesn’t look worried, but Shiro has observed the group long enough to know that it is probably a lie. They haven’t been his students for long, but he’s been observing.

He thinks back to the last conversation he had with Lance and  _ worries _ .

What if it’s Shiro's fault? He's implied things and made Lance uncomfortable, defensive. What if he’s hurt their relationship? But then... why would Lance still be trying to engage Keith? No. That doesn't make any sense.

There is something going on here he doesn't understand. Something he  _ needs _ to understand. He’s considered going to Iverson or Professor Sutherland for help, but what proof could he offer other than his gut and a statement made in passing? Maybe he’s overthinking things? He's a new teacher -- not even a full teacher, more like a privileged TA. What if he's seeing things that aren't there?

But this is wrong. Keith has always completed a level 2 simulation in less than 10 minutes, even when Sophia got injured mid-flight and they'd nearly had to call it off. Today took 11. Not a huge failing, but Shiro knows better.

He catches Lance's eye and raises an eyebrow.  _ What's going on? _

Lance stares for a moment before shrugging.  _ I don't know. _

.

Keith waves Hunk and Lance away with a clear dismissal and a weak excuse, something vague about  needing to lie down before he turns on his heel and walking away. His head hurts. His feet drag. His flying was awful because his hands shook too much. And now, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to make it through lunch without crying. 

He heads to his dorm and thinks about sleeping.  _ It’s better like this, _ Keith repeats to himself. He made it the first time alone. He can do it again. 

_ He can.  _

And if he repeats it enough times, it will be enough. 

.

Lance receives a call from his parents halfway through his last class period. It’s shocking because it is his father. Not his brother. Not his mother. But his father. And it’s enough to make him pause and think, to weigh the cons of picking up or letting it go. It’s the first time his father has reached out to him since he arrived. He doesn't know why that is important, but it is. He misses his father. He misses all of them.

He had thought, at least initially, that he could do this without them. He thought they would give up. He's left. He's leaving. He cannot stay away from space. He knows this. He knows this...

By the time he manages to excuse himself with five minutes left in the class period, the call is designated ‘missed.’ But he’s already made his decision. He calls back.

It takes two rings for his father to pick up. “Lance!”

The pure joy in his voice is enough to make Lance’s knees weak. He leans against the wall of the bathroom. Class will let out in three minutes. “Hey…”

“I’m glad I got ahold of you.” And Lance waits for the double meaning, for his father to say something about his absence. He knows he's in the wrong, even more so than before. He misses them.

"I missed you," Lance cuts in before his father can continue. It stumbles off his tongue and sits heavy in the air before his father chuckles quietly.

"I missed you too," his father says. "I know things have been... different since you left. That honestly you weren't doing too hot before you left."

"Dad..."

"Lance." His father takes a deep breath. "That's why I'm calling. I want to make sure I have the dates for your Thanksgiving break tickets all set. I know it's next month, but I think we need to talk."

"Dad, I'm not sure if I can..." Lance mumbles as he thinks back to his team. They have a plan. He doesn't know where it goes after Iverson, but he knows they're not even close to done. Not until Keith's safe.

"Lance," his father warns. Lance knows better than to argue with that voice. "I am sending you tickets. I expect you to see you in the airport. Is that understood?"

“... Yeah, Dad. I--I’ll see you then.” And if the stone in his stomach only sinks further then that’s okay. He’ll figure it out.

“Good. Now, when are your dates?”

.

“I want it noted that this is the dumbest thing I’ve ever done,” Hunk hisses over the com. From his place across the street, Lance tries not to laugh from nerves as he remembers all the things Hunk will do that are far worse than this. 

_ Oh my god, what are we doing? _

“We already went through this,” Lauren starts, and Lance looks away form his own computer for a moment to watch Lauren fidget before he looks back to his own screen where he watches Aaron and Mark slowly pulling up to the curb a block from Iverson’s house. “We know what we’re doing.”

“I mean… depends on your definition of ‘know,’” Hunk grumbles. 

Lauren pokes him slightly in the side as he jiggles the lock open. “Don’t worry, Hunky mah boy. In and out in five before the next patrol comes around. Shivanni and Lance are watching the cameras, which will give us ample time. No stress. No worries.”

_ “Hakuna matata,” _ Shivanni sings over the coms. 

It’s enough to make Hunk laugh softly. 

“Aaron and Mark are in position,” he says as he watches from Mark’s GoPro before switching to the street cameras. Pidge would have been able to get them police feeds and routines. But for now, cameras across the street to figure out Iverson’s schedule is enough. They’ll figure out how to get into Iverson’s home after they’ve cleaned out his office. 

“If we get caught, we’ll get expelled,” Hunk reminds them as they slip through the door. Quietly, Hunk and Lauren distribute the bugs: six for every corner of the three rooms in the teacher's lounge, two strong enough to pick up voices over the hustle and bustle of the kitchen, one in the bathroom, and three in the main room. Next, a set of cameras. They disguise two in the vents and one near the TV. All of this a test run to see if their equipment can keep up. If they find anything interesting, well, that’s just an added bonus.

“If we get caught, we go to jail,” Shivanni clarifies. 

“At least we’re not Aaron and Mark,” Lauren jokes. 

“Don’t even joke, dude,” Aaron grumbles. “Remind me why we put the singular black guy on stalk-the-nice-old-man duty.”

“Because  _ you _ pulled the short straw, and you’re the only one with a permit,” Shivanni reminds him. Hunk and Lauren are almost done. “Guards pass by in 2, guys. Hunk, Lauren, please tell me you’re leaving.”

“Done,” Hunk calls. 

“We’re almost set up,” Mark reassures them. He’s got the camera installed on the fence. It’s made to look like a rock, but stuck down. It should be enough for now. “God, this is the dumbest thing I’ve ever done.”

“For our friends,” Shivanni reminds them all. 

_ For Keith _ , Lance thinks quietly. “Next time, I call ground team,” Lance says as he cycles through the street cameras. “I hate this… watching.” So far, everything is going okay. But he still feels antsy.

“Next time,  _ you _ pull the short straw,” Aaron sings as Lance watches Mark jog down the block to the car. 

“I cannot believe we just did that,” Lauren cries as they sneak back to the dorms. “Oh my Jesus. I cannot believe we just did that.”

“No going back now,” Shivanni says as she watches the guards pass by the teacher’s lounge, looking as untouched as they had found it. 

Lance watches Mark and Aaron clear the neighborhood and head back to campus. “For our friends, right?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally managed to get over my writer's block! I would like to thank everyone who've been sticking with this for so long and being so supportive despite the delays! Please let me know what you think!
> 
> ALSO!! 
> 
> This fic now has a beta! That's right. Please send your love to [ Onoheiwa ](https://onoheiwa.tumblr.com/) who is amazing and wonderful and quickly working through all the chapters of this fic to make them ten times better. 
> 
> Chapters 1-6 have been beta'd and reuploaded to be free of all errors, typos, and awkward phrasing so feel free to check those out when you get a chance. 
> 
> **More Notes:**  
>     
> So what has been going on since I published the last chapter? (Looks like the notes will be as long as the chapter....) 
> 
> Well, I started a writing blog! [ TheQueenWrites117 ](https://thequeenwrites117.tumblr.com/) is where I'll be posting excerpts of fanfic and original work as well as taking prompts.
> 
> I actually have a few posts promoting this fic if you'd like to spread the word: [ Down The Rabbit Hole ](https://thequeenwrites117.tumblr.com/post/160462167700/title-down-the-rabbit-hole-rating-t-ships) | [ Down The Rabbit Hole: Ch. 22 ](https://thequeenwrites117.tumblr.com/post/160499212920/title-down-the-rabbit-hole-ch-22-rating-t)
> 
> I am hosting another Big Bang!! This one dedicated to Shiro. For more information please check out the tumblr [ VoltronBigBang ](http://voltronbigbang.tumblr.com/). We are currently taking writing sign ups until May 15, 2017 if interested.
> 
> I am also making a Lance-centric Zine with a few friends called Starboy: An Unofficial Voltron ZIne. For more information about that please check out our tumblr [ LanceZine ](http://lancezine.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Finally, I will be traveling in europe this summer!! I am lucky enough to be studying abroad. As such, my goal with this story is 2-3 chapters a month. But please be patient with me if that does not pan out. ^^"


	26. Twenty Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> \o/

They’re kicking around the old shack as Keith works on the hoverbike when Lance notices it. 

It had been a struggle to drag Keith out here. He’d been off all week, short and distant, and Lance is worried. So is Hunk. He keeps pushing, keeps insisting they should bring Keith in but Lance knows it’s for the best that they don’t. Not yet. Not until he has proof that he can keep Keith safe. 

It stings. When once Hunk would have trusted him blindly now it sometimes feels like Hunk just tolerates him. But when it comes to keeping Keith safe, Lance will not bend.

“You cut your hair!” Lance cries, dropping down next to Keith to weave his fingers in the fringe along Keith’s neck. He feels Keith tense under his hands but doesn’t move. “Why’d you do that?”

“I got tired of brushing it,” Keith defends, pushing Lance away before turning back to the hoverbike. It’s hot. Even with the fan blowing in the corner and the windows all closed to keep out the sun, it’s hot. Baking. Lance feels like he’s roasting and melting and baking all at once and he groans, leaning his head against Keith’s shoulder as if that will make it all better. 

He’s missed Keith, in the time he’s had to stay away. He’s missed him dearly. 

“I don’t know how you did it,” Lance whispers, just low enough so Hunk won’t hear from where he’s sitting on the computer running some sort of simulation or another, “I’d die of dehydration out here.”

Keith hums, the only indication he’s paying attention until he says, “After Shiro… I figured this was the closest I’d get to home ever again. It became easy to bear with it when it reminded me of him. And when I started looking for Blue it became even easier.”

“I can’t hear her, you know,” Lance whispers, “even all the way out here, I can’t hear her.”

Keith pauses and does something he hasn’t in a week. He takes Lance’s hand in his. “She’ll call us when we’re ready,” he promises. “She’s still yours.”

Lance looks at him, blue against a deep galra-indigo, and smiles, “Thank you.”

Keith smiles back and then it waivers. His eyebrows furrow and for a moment he looks like he’s about to say something before he thinks better, turning his attention back to the bike. 

“Keith… are you feeling--?”

“Hey!” Hunk calls, apparently just entering the shack. Lance flinches and sits up, guilty realizing he hadn’t noticed Hunk leave. “I think you guys should come see this.” His hands are clasped together and he glances nervously out the window. “Now.”

Lance follows Keith out the door and freezes. Keith gasps. In the distance, past the familiar plateaus and outcroppings of stone, he watches columns of gray-ashy smoke waft through the air in the direction from… Blue.

.

Lance crawls back onto Campus with an equally tired Keith and Hunk hours later, fear echoing as his heart refuses to calm. The thought of Blue and fire and smoke graying out the clear blue sky playing heavily on his mind. It had taken everything in him not to run out into the desert, everything and Keith’s solid grip on his arm. He wonders if it’s a mistake. Had that been the sign? Was that Blue calling to him to return? Were the Galra here? Crawling around the desert searching for  _ his  _ lion? 

But… no… the Galra had never been content with subtle gestures. They’d have come to conquer Earth, not just the Blue Lion. Maybe the Blade? But why wouldn’t they try to contact himself or Keith if they knew where to find Blue? 

What if… what if it was the Garrison? But why fire? Unless… explosives? Where they digging for Blue? Who could they know though? How could they…

But then how did they know about the Galra? Questions. Questions. Too many Questions. 

He sighs and fiddles with his key card before forcing his door open. Exhaustion pulling at his footsteps as he enters the room, ready to groan about his day when he spies Aaron quietly curled up on his bed, the phone pressed against his ear. 

“No… I-” Aaron waves to him quickly. “I’m… I’m fine. I gotta…. I gotta go. Yeah. Yeah I’ll call you back. Yeah, he’s back….”

Lance gestures to the door, silently asking if he should leave. Aaron shakes his head. 

“Okay. Okay, I’ll call… Love you too.” Aaron smiles and in the dim lighting of their room Lance wonders if it is as sad as it looks. “Talk to you soon. Bye.”

“Sorry,” Lance says once Aaron sets the phone down. He toes off his shoes and pulls off his shirt before climbing onto his bed. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Aaron shrugs. “It’s okay. You didn’t interrupt anything.”

Lance nods and then frowns. “You know you can tell me about anything right?”

Aaron nods without hesitation. “I know. Don’t worry about it Lance. Just my mom.”

“Okay… Well… I’m going to take a nap before dinner.”Not everyone has weird family situations, he reminds himself. Some people talk to their parents. 

“Okay,” Aaron leans over and switches off his desk lamp so the room is illuminated only be the dying sun behind the shutters. “Sleep tight.”

.

Shiro observers his students with feigned disinterest and internal humor as they struggle their way through the obstacle course he’d set up. They’re faring better than anticipated through sheer determination than anything else. In all honesty, he hadn’t expected much from a couple of 15 year olds. Great flying is one thing. Physical ability is another. Watching Keith pause to help Lance recover from a fallen hurdle he picks up his whistle and shouts, “No helping!” 

Keith shoots him a sour look as Lance groans. “God damn it!” 

“Reset to last checkpoint,” he calls and watches them shuffle their way to the beginning of the hurdles. If looks could kill, Shiro was fairly sure he’d be on fire based on how hard Keith was glaring. He can’t help but crack a smile. 

“Evil!” Keith shouts as Shiro raises the whistle to his lips. 

.

At the end Keith is fairly certain he’s dying. 

“I’m dying!” Lance cries, stumble forward from his cool down run to collapse next to Keith in the grass. Shiro just hands him a gatorade. “You’re evil. I thought you were nice but you’re evil.”

“Satan,” Keith echoes. He’d forgotten how much of a slave driver Shiro could be. Even as a the leader of Voltron Keith isn’t sure Shiro had pushed him as hard as when he’d been a cadet. Now he’s fairly sure his heart is going to give out and he’s never felt more sweaty. 

Shiro shrugs, hands on his hips. “You guys did great all things considering.”

“Dying!” Lance cries and Keith huff's when he feels Lance face plant into his stomach. 

Shiro laughs. “Alright, take ten. And then we’re heading into the sim.”

“He’s going to kill us,” Keith mumbles. He leans up on his elbows, forcing lance to get off. He grabs his water bottle and tries not to chug. “God I wish I had…” he pauses and bites his lip. 

“Yeah,” Lance sighs. “God once upon a time we could have completed that in half the time.”

“I miss my old body,” Keith admits. It’s been something he’s done his best to avoid thinking. His height, his strength, his endurance, his claws, his… he reaches up and brushes against the fringe on his neck. He’d gotten tired of waiting for it to grow out. He sighs and takes another swing of his water bottle. “Come on, we should stretch.”

Lance groans but forces himself to stand. “I can’t believe the universe is going to die because Shiro decided to kill us when we were fifteen.”

Keith laughs as he squats down for his first set. It’s good… having Lance like this, getting to spend time with him like this. Even if it’s temporary. Well, that’s okay. 

Keith will be alright. 

.

Shivanni grumbles, frustrated as she stares down at the code that just refuses to work. “What…” she groans and tips her head back to glare at her ceiling. “What am I doing wrong?”

Lauren sighs from her place on the floor, textbook open and surrounded by far too many notes. At least, Shivanni considers, she doesn’t have midterms. Not yet anyway. At least there’s that. She’ll take shitty code over exams any day. “Having some issues?”

Shivanni looks back at her computer and swears the characters are mocking her. “I think I’m dying.”

Lauren laughs and sets her notes aside to walk over, careful to step over the variety of dirty clothes and random crap Shivanni and her roommate Amelia are prone to throwing around. “You’re pretty good at this stuff, huh?”

Shivanni shrugs. “Most of the time.”

Lauren closes her laptop and ruffles her hair, “Come on super nerd. Let’s take a break and get something to eat.” 

Shivanni struggles to fix her part before giving up. “Yeah alright. If I have to.”

Lauren grins and slips on her shoes before holding the door open with an unnecessary amount of flourish. “To the cafeteria!” 

Ten minutes later Shivanni finds herself lounging on the upper deck of the Cloud Forest Greenhouse, the variety of butterflies making their way up and around the large Kapok trees eating chocolate ice cream as Lauren finishes sending off the last of her emails. “So Shivanni,” Lauren says as she pockets her cell phones. “I gotta ask because it’s bugging me.”

“Yeah?”

“Why are you a pilot?” Lauren asks just as Shivanni pops a large spoonful of ice cream in her mouth. She jerks, fights back a cough and forces herself to swallow it down before clearing her throat. 

“Dude!”

“Sorry,” Lauren laughs, handing her a napkin to wipe her mouth. “I did ask.”

“I didn’t think you’d ask that,” Shivanni complains, crumpling up the napkin and shoving it into her jean pocket. She frowns, stares out at the canopy of trees and shrugs, “Why wouldn’t I want to be a pilot?”

Lauren thinks about it for a minute and Shivanni watches her from the corner of her eye as she finishes off her shaved ice in six bites. “You love tech. You’re good at it. Hell, you’re pretty brilliant. Mark has been gushing to me about how great your work has been and that he doesn’t have to edit too much.” Lauren asks, “Why not become an engineer?”

“I love flying,” Shivanni says as a few butterflies land by the flowers in front of them, the vines of purple draped aesthetically against the bark. “I’ve loved it for as long as I can remember. I always wanted to fly first in the sky and then when I learned about the Garrison in space. I wanted to… know what it was like to take control of a ship and have that freedom…” She shrugs again. “I mean I know I’m no Lance or Keith, but I’ve just never wanted to do anything else but fly. Ever since I was young.”

Lauren nods. 

“It’s frustrating though,” Shivanni confesses. “It doesn’t always come easy and I don’t like the classwork sometimes… a lot of times. I guess I thought it would be…”

“Different?” Lauren offers.

“Yeah. I thought it would be different.”

“Well…” Lauren frowns and Shivanni finds herself fidgeting, “then you have to ask yourself, will flying make you happy, right?”

Shivanni sighs, “I just… I’ve never wanted to do anything else.”

“If you’re not good at it… if it frustrates you…” Lauren pauses trying to find the right words. “Well… engineers get to fly too.”

Shivanni shrugs. 

“Think about it,” Lauren says while raising her arms in a stretch. “I’m just saying…”

“No… I get it. I do,” Shivanni says feeling a little helpless. She likes flying. She does… She just… She doesn’t know. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for being so patient!!! I hope you all enjoyed the update. 
> 
> Honestly I'm not even going to try promising when the next update will be popping up. That being said I've got way less projects now so yay! 
> 
> Please send your love to [ Onoheiwa ](https://onoheiwa.tumblr.com/) who is my amazing beta!! Chapters 1-15 have been beta'd and reuploaded to be free of all errors, typos, and awkward phrasing so feel free to check those out when you get a chance. 
> 
> As always, please let me know what you think! ^^
> 
> PS: This story continues to stay consistent with Season 1 and that's about it. Elements of other seasons might be brought in only if they already fit.


	27. Twenty Five

As Halloween rolls into town and the school begins to be consumed by a variety of gourds and the color black, Aaron calls an emergency meeting. 

It’s been three weeks since they set up cameras and microphones in the teacher’s lounge as a trial run for their tech and their ability. “Luckily,” Aaron says, from his seat next to Lance on Lauren’s bed, his feet swinging back and forth. “It paid off.” 

The team had spent the last few days switching on and off listening to the recordings they’d picked up in the teacher’s lounge: most of it boring and mundane, some of it interesting and gossip worthy (apparently there was UTS none of them had expected or needed to know). 

“After sorting through the transmissions of the last two days, I learned that the Commander will be out of the town for the Halloween weekend,” Aaron takes a moment and grins, “We strike at midnight! Halloween midnight!” 

Shivanni rolls her eyes while Lauren snickers. “You’re such a nerd.”

“I’ve always wanted to say that,” Aaron admits, kicking his feet out to gently nudge at the back of her head from where she sat at the desk.

“But yeah,” Shivanni says, swatting his foot away, “I think it’s solid. We know he’ll be out of the office and most of the teachers will be either out and about doing Halloween stuff or at home with their kids since classes end early.”

“If we get caught we can claim to be pranksters,” Lauren suggests leaning against Mark on Lance’s bed. “Add some shaving cream to the cabinets to cover up the fact that anyone was in there.”

“I thought the whole point was to make people think no one was in there,” Hunk argues, nervously tapping his fingers against the wall. “I mean… are you guys sure we’re ready?”

Mark frowns, “I think it’ll be fine as long as we’re careful and we cover our tracks,” he turns to Lance, “I like the prankster idea. If anyone is looking they’ll be looking for some assholes you shaving cream’d his office on Halloween, not a couple of conspiracy theorists looking for Aliens.”

“Aliens that exist,” Shivanni reminds him. 

Mark smiles sadly, eyes looking past her to the wall. “Yeah… Aliens that exist.”

.

Keith groans as he drops his phone in his lap after the fourth time trying to get in touch with Lance or Hunk or anyone. This was ridiculous! He needed to talk to Lance. He needed… His mind wanders to the pillar of smoke in the desert sky and the fear on Lance’s face. They need to talk about Blue. They need to protect Voltron. 

How could the Garrison possibly know? Or… was it not the Garrison? 

He scowls and shakes his head. Of course it’s the Garrison, sketchy fuckers. The Galra shouldn’t come until they take Shiro and that is a year away, a long year away. (He’s still torn if he should say something, warn somehow. Next semester Shiro will start his training to go to Kerberos and he can’t stomach the thought of…. Shiro had changed so much after his capture.) 

Either way… Lance needed to talk to him. This went beyond them and their friendship. This was Blue and Voltron and the Universe and as his phone lay silent on his lap, he felt his heart hurt from the stress of it all. He hated this. He hated this. He wanted to go home to the Castle and to the Shiro who knew who he was and the Hunk who remembered and Pidge and Allura and Coran whose absence he felt like a missing limb. And…

And he wanted Lance. He wanted his Lance back. His Lance who he could spend hours with in silence watching the stars as they floated through space. His Lance who he could always count on to protect his back in hostile territory. He missed him. He had him and he missed him. 

Before all this, part of Keith had thought… had considered maybe they could…

He takes a deep breath. No point in wallowing, he reminds himself. He gets up and shoves his shoes on. If Lance won’t pick up then he’d go see him in person. 

.

Lance watches as Lauren nudges Mark slightly on the arm and he turns to her with a smile, images of Mark’s body bleeding out on that runway (and he never saw it thank god but he’s seen enough dead bodies to know) flashing in his mind.

“What if we bring in Keith.” Hunk suggests, calling the group back to attention. He fidgets for a moment and then continues. “I’m just saying… it would be useful.”

Lance rolls his eyes,  _ here we go.  _ Lance feels the weight of everyone’s gaze as he sighs. “Hunk, we’ve talked about this.”

“He’s a great fighter!” Hunk continues as if he didn’t hear Lance, “You know that. He’s protective of all of us, especially you. He’s not going to do anything to endanger the mission.”

“I’m not having this conversation again!” Lance snaps, leaning forward to glare at Hunk from his perch on Aaron’s lofted bed. “I don’t want to have this conversation again. I’ve already told you why…”

“They’re stupid reasons,” Hunk argues back, standing up straight. “Keith could help us! And more than that, he deserves to know why his friends keep fucking off. He deserves to know that he’s--!” 

“Just drop it,” Lance cries and flinches slightly when Aaron grabs his shoulder. “I’m not-.”

“This argument isn’t useful,” Aaron reminds them, ever the voice of reason. “We have a heist to plan and the last thing we need right now is you too yelling you’re keeping secrets for the whole floor to hear.”

Hunk flushes and looks away. Lance has the shame to apologize. Aaron nods, “Let’s focus…. I… I agree that Keith deserves to know but,” he adds when Lance shoots him a sharp look. “Not right now. Not when we don’t know what’s going on, okay?”

Hunk shakes his head, “This is going to blow up in our faces.”

.

From his place by the door, Keith stands frozen, wide-eyed with his first still poised to knock. On the other side, he hears their muffled voices and he wonders if they’re still arguing to let him in or not. If the others agree or not. He laughs, humorless, turns on his heel and runs as if he can run from the pain in his stomach and the burn in his eyes as he fights back tears 

Fine, he thinks bitterly. Fine! He’ll investigate on his own. He’ll find out what the Garrison is up to and what it has to do with Blue and Lance and the others. He’ll find out what they’re hiding, his friends. They don’t want him to know; they don’t trust him? Then fine. Fine! He’ll do it by himself. He’s done it before. He’ll do it again. 

(He’ll prove them wrong.)

(He’ll prove Lance wrong.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOO!!! And so the climax begins! Those of you who guessed Keith would be getting angry congrats! There is only so long this boy will let himself be sad. Hope y'all liked the chapter. Please let me know what you think!
> 
> EDIT: Fixed the name issue!


	28. Twenty Six

It doesn’t take Lance long to realize that something is wrong. 

There has always been a competition between them; a driving urge hold over from the rivalry that bore their friendship. Competition. Battle. These are things that have always come easy to Lance and Keith before any of the other paladins (gentler souls that they were). It was what drew Lance to Keith in the first place all those ages and lifetimes ago when they were really fifteen and naive: the passion Lance saw in Keith’s eyes as he flew. The complete control he had maintained when every inch of their environment was designed to kill them. 

Even in moments of true weakness, caught on the battlefield between a rock and a hard place with guns leveled at their heads and hostages, Lance has never seen that spark of fire falter from Keith’s gaze.

Today, he watches Keith fly like a dead man. 

“What was that?” Lance hisses as Keith steps off the gangplank and back into the classroom. 

Keith looks away, mouth set in a grim line. His poor timing glaring down at the them from the scoreboard. Surely, Lance thinks, it must be a fluke.The machine is broken? Even though Keith has been off these past few weeks, flying sloppy. It is nothing compared to this. Lance has never seen Keith fly a sim so poorly. 

“Are you sick?” Lance presses. He catches the eye of Lauren and Sophie who shrug helplessly. “Are you dying?”

Keith snorts and rolls his eyes. For a moment, Lance thinks he’s going to react, to tease or joke or something. Instead he watches the mirth drain from Keith’s face far too quickly. “Just back off Lance,” Keith says as Shiro gathers their attention to the front of the room. “It’s none of your business anyway.”

Keith doesn’t speak for the rest of the period.

.

Hunk watches Keith turn down another lunch invite with a pathetic excuse for a smile before turning the corner. He sighs. 

“Still think waiting to tell him is a good idea?” Hunk asks Lance as they set off to the cafeteria.

Lance shakes his head and keeps walking. 

“I want to trust you, Lance,” Hunk presses. “Please… just… give me something.”

“I won’t let him get hurt, Hunk,” Lance finally says as a group of students pass them, their chatter filling the halls so Hunk has to strain to hear him clearly. “Trust that at least.”

.

Shiro feels like an idiot. 

He had thought it a fluke; he had written it off as an overactive imagination. His students in danger? Here at the Garrison? How ridiculous. Yes, Keith had been off but Lance and Keith had seemed to be doing okay again. Whatever issue being minor and easy to fix as he watched their grades recover and improve. Now he watches Lance and Keith from the corner of his eye as Commander Iverson leads the class and wonders. 

When Shiro first met Keith, he had been nothing like his file had suggest. Gone was the spitfire delinquent Shiro was warned to watch carefully. Instead, he found a young sociable boy with weary eyes and a chip on his shoulder after a lifetime bouncing from home to home. But nothing unexpected or unmanageable. His obvious admiration and treasured friendship with Lance a relief and his passion for flying welcome.

How a person flies says a lot of about them. It was a pattern Shiro had discovered after several failed romantic and platonic relationships. Today, Shiro doesn’t know who flew Keith’s simulator. Not the spitfire delinquent nor the passionate sociable boy. No… today a side of Keith, Shiro is sure he never wanted to meet, flew today. 

Whatever has changed his student… whoever has hurt his student so signifigantly… Well… Shiro has always been protective of those he calls his. 

.

“So this is it,” Shivanni says, passing a communicator to each of them. “Between me, Hunk, and Mark the communicators and data chips is done and thoroughly tested.”

“I’ve got the guard rotation,” Aaron says. “We’ve managed to piece together the best time to attack based on the conversations we’ve picked up in the teacher’s lounge.”

Lance watches as the news settles with everyone from his perch on his bed. “It’s real this time,” Lance says and he takes a moment to meet the eye of each and every one of them. “If you need to back out… if you’re having second thoughts,” and here he stares at Hunk who stares right back, “no one will judge you. Leave.”

Lance wonders if this is something Shiro would feel right before a battle, watching all of them -- paladins and coallison fighters -- from his seat as head of Voltron. Lance still remembers the speech Shiro gave them the day before the battle of Vite-ilias. He doubts he can inspire them (his team?) the same way Shiro did. But maybe he doesn’t have to.

He watches as not a single person looks to the door.

“For our friends,” Hunk says by his place at the door. “And our family,” he nods to Lauren. He turns to stare at Lance. “We’re not going to let any of them get hurt.

“We strike on Halloween,” Shivanni smiles as she leans her head on Lance’s shoulder. “Soon.”

.

Keith backs away from the door and starts heading back to his room, not wanting to get caught eavesdropping. Halloween huh… Keith takes a deep breath. He doesn’t know what’s going on -- not yet. But he will. And he’s not going to let them get hurt in the meantime, assholes that they are. 

He’s going to be there to watch Lance’s backs.

Whether he want Keith to or not. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've tried posting this several times. Here's hoping this time it sticks!
> 
> As always, please let me know what you think. ^^


	29. Twenty Seven

Four days after Shiro watchs Keith Kogane -- his star pupil -- fail his first simulation, he walks to his car after hours in frustration. He can’t stop thinking about the last session he held yesterday -- Lance and Keith had barely spoken. Whatever comradery they had possessed in their previous sessions was buried under Keith’s cold shoulder and Lance’s surreal awkwardness. 

When he’d decided to talk to them about it (more like gathered the courage), Shiro had pulled Keith aside and asked if there is anything he could do to help. 

“No,” Keith had said after several minutes of silence where Shiro waited for answer, “Not until Lance trusts me.”

“He doesn’t trust you?” Shiro pressed.

“No.” Keith had shaken his head and looked away. “It’s more complicated than that…” Shiro remembered this clearly: the way Keith hadn’t been able to look him in the eye. “After Halloween,” Keith said. “Maybe then…”

Then he’d walked away. 

All day he’d been unable to think of anything else -- even when teaching other classes or interacting with other students. Just Keith and Lance. And Lance and Keith... And all the trouble they might be in.  _ Trust. _ What had happened for Keith to lose Lance’s trust? Or… no that didn’t feel right.  All good I think I like that. 

Shiro thinks of the past, of Lance’s expression all those weeks ago when he’d suggested they might be together:  _ “Yeah. Well, we have to look out for each other, right?”  _

Not a loss of trust but something else…

He groans as he finally manages to find his car in the ever sprawling Garrison parking lot. Maybe he was overthinking things? Or he was on the money? Or… Or… “Matt’s right,” Shiro grumbles as he unlocks his car and throws his bag in the back seat. “I’m overthinking this. Next week I’ll take them out… Dinner? Or maybe lunch? And…” 

He glances up at the clear desert sky and the stars above. He’ll make these boys talk if he has to lock them in the room together!

That’s when he hears the gunshot. 

.

_ It’s going too easy,  _ Lance thinks as Aaron walks them through the guard rotation on the COMs. He worries about it as Shivanni unlocks the door with far too much ease. It’s what he mumbles when Lauren starts pouring shaving cream and throwing toilet paper around Iverson’s office and Mark confirms that the hallway cameras are playing the same empty hallway footage they’d collected the week earlier. 

Hunk warns him not to jinx it on the COM.

Fifteen minutes later, Shivanni curses low under her breath. 

The guard rounds the corner before Aaron realizes.

And Keith shows up. 

Before Lance can react, Keith has downed the guard, stolen his nightstick and planted himself by the door. 

Shivanni is the first to break the silence, “What are you doing here?”

Keith’s eyes narrow and he snarls, “Yeah, Lance. What am I doing here?”

It’s in that moment Hunk chooses to chime in with an unhelpful, “I knew it!” 

“Dude!” Aaron cries. 

Lance winces and debates plucking the communicator out of his ear, but decides not to for the sake of the mission. “How did you find out?”

Keith scoffs, “I’m not an idiot. Your and Hunk’s voices carry. You’re lucky it was me and not a faculty member.”

Lance winces. There had been a risk doing it in their dorm rooms… 

As if reading his mind, Keith adds, “If you’d told me something I could have let you use the shack you know!”

“Moving on and off campus that frequently would have tipped them off,” Lance argues. “I already have neighbors asking why my friends come to study every other week.”

Keith rolls his eyes, “You owe me so many explanations, McClain.”

“Keith…”

“Not to break up your…” Lauren stops short when Keith levels her with one of his battle hardened glares. “Um...very valid argument. We got a downed guard here. At some point they’re going to come looking for him.”

“She’s right,” Aaron adds. “You guys have maybe until the next guard rotation before someone comes looking.”

“What’d they say?” Keith presses, gesturing to Lance’s ear. “Seeing as I can’t hear them.”

Lance whinces. He’s…. He’s going to owe a big explanation for this. 

“I agree,” Hunk says. “I was right but also I agree, you guys need to get out of there before someone comes looking.” 

“Shivanni?” Lance asks. 

“I would if I could, guys,” Shivanni snaps, fingers typing away as she searched, “But I’m still copying the data over right now.”

“Why not just take the whole goddamn thing?” Keith argues, moving as if to rip the harddrive out of the office. 

“Wow!” Lance cries, grabbing Keith’s arm. “We’re trying to keep it on the low here.”

“By toiltpapering his office?” Keith’s eyebrows furrow but he stills, giving room for Shivanni to work. 

“A distraction,” Lauren grins, tossing the toilet paper she was holding. “A simple Halloween prank.”

“So they won’t look to see if something else was taken,” Keith summarizes. “Cover up your tracks with an explosion?” He laughs, “Really Lance?”

Lance shrugs, “It worked last time.”

“Last time?” Hunk whispers to probably Aaron and Mark. 

Keith rolls his eyes, “Fine. But I still say we’re pushing it. And,” he points at Lance, “don’t you dare suggest I leave.”

Lance raises his hand, finger spread in a gesture of surrender. “I won’t…” He bites his lip. He knows it’s not the time for it but still he has to add. “I did it for a reason.”

Keith snorts, moving back to the door to stand guard, “You always have your reasons, Lance.”

Lauren whistles low. Aaron hisses in sympathy, “Damn…”

Finally Shivanni calls it ten minutes later, “I’m getting as much as I can. We’re leaving. I don’t think we should ri-”

It is in this moment that things go from stressful to awful.  _ Of course _ , Lance thinks bitterly as they hear the sound of footsteps rounding the corner. “I thought you said we had until the next guard rotation,” Lance hisses. 

“I said maybe,” Aaron defends. “I said maybe!”

Lauren grabs her bag as Shivanni throws the wires and drives she’d used into her purse. “I say we split up. Book it and I’ll give them a chase around the block.” She chuckles as Mark starts disagreeing. “This isn’t the first time I might or might not have pranked a teacher’s office. I know how to lose them.”

“And if they don’t follow you?” Keith asks.

She shrugs, “Run.”

Keith smiles and drops his nightstick, “Yeah okay… I can work with that.” 

They move on three; watch Lauren burst through the door like a bat out of hell before waiting for the footsteps to retreat and running in the opposite direction. But Lance knows better to think they’ve managed to get away scot free. As they round the next corner, Lance hears guards. 

“Stop!”

“Oh my god,” Shivanni cries, picking up the pace. Keith lags slightly, watching their backs. “Oh my god, we’re going to die or get expelled or get thrown in jail. Oh my god. Oh my god.”

“Get off campus,” Keith snaps as Lance turns left towards the parking lot and past that the open desert and their shack. 

“What you don’t think they’ll chase us into the desert?” Shivanni cries, following Lance. 

“No,” Lance huffs. “But we can lose them in the rocks.” 

That’s when the gun fires. That’s when Lance feels the ground giving under him as he falls to the side, knees and hands skidding across the pavement. That’s when he hears Shivanni scream.

That’s when he watches Keith get shot. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What would this story be without one last cliffhanger as we hit the climax. :P  
> If you've stuck with me this far through the story, I want to thank all of you so very much. I promise we're entering the home stretch of Part 1 of Chasing the Rabbit!! 
> 
> As always, please let me know in the comments below what you think of the story so far!
> 
> PS: I cannot believe this fic is soooo close to 1k kudos!! <3 Thank you guys!


	30. Twenty-Eight

Shiro moves, rips open the drive side door and throws himself in. For one terrifying moment he struggles with the key before he remembers how to use his hands. Then his foot is on the peddle and the car is moving forward before he can rationally stop and think. 

It’s his gut. It’s an instinct. Something (like fate he’ll think much, much later) propelling him through the parking lot and back towards the building before he can wonder why there is an echo of a gunshot ringing in his ears.

When he sees them silhouetted in his headlights  -- first the security in the distance, guns raised and advancing, and then the kids… his kids -- he stops, unlocks the doors, rolls down the windows, and yells, “Get in!”

The girl moves first, grabs Keith poorly and then Lance. Jostles them both so Keith is hissing in pain as they help him into the backseat before scrambling in themselves. 

He doesn’t know what he’s thinking -- he isn’t -- when he backs up and pulls out of the parking lot as fast as his car can move them. He’s certain, as he pulls them around the back and through the truck entrance that he’s used one too many times as a student to sneak out (because security is always poor near the back entrance after midnight because the guards are on rotation, the next guy always shows up 6 minutes late after midnight, and they’re not the only semi-military base in the US with really shitty security all things considering), that he’s going to lose his job. He’s a thousand percent certain as he heads out along dirt roads away from the Garrison that he’s going to lose his job and get his students killed and what is he thinking! He should turn around right now! But his foot stays on the pedal and he can’t make himself turn the steering wheel. He should have taken them to the infirmary and what part of any of this is rational and what is he thinking. Oh my god….

“Take a left,” Keith snaps through gritted teeth. 

Shiro takes a left, feels his tires hit sand and dirt and thanks god he bought a Toyota 4 wheeler that can handle sand. He promises to never question his step-mother ever again. 

“When you pass that big red rock,” Shiro spots the big red rock, “Make a right and keep going straight. There’ll be a pass and then it’s a straight shot.”

Shiro finds his voice, “Keep pressure on the wound.” 

“Doing it,” Lance calls out. The girl is hyperventilating, speaking to herself in the backseat in high pitched mutters too fast for Shiro to follow. Shiro wants to tell her it’ll be okay but he’s pretty sure that’d be lying. 

.

Their homebase is a shack. Inside is a sofa, a gutted hoverbike, a semi-working kitchen (ie working water) and a pretty well stocked first aid kit. The last thing is an important one. Thank god for first aid training, Shiro thinks, heart still beating too fast as Lance and the girl -- Shivanni, she’d said in the car -- carries Keith onto the sofa. 

“Are there any clean towels?” Shiro asks.

Lance nods and tells Shivanni they’re in the closet. Shiro inspects the contents of the first aid kit and then looks at Keith, who's still awake somehow. Shiro’s never been shot before but he imagine… well it’s pretty obvious it hurts. “Please tell me,” Shiro says as Lance uses his sweater as a makeshift towel. “that there is no bullet.”

He knows the principals. He took a field training class at the army base he’d worked at last year. He is not certain he could put it in practice. 

“I don’t think so,” Keith says and Shiro nearly collapses from relief. “But… it’s going to need stitches. 

“I can do that,” Shiro says as Shivanni returns with the towels. 

.

He asks both of them to step outside. Lance insists on staying. Shivanni waits on the porch so she can talk to their friends. Apparently they have COMs and she hadn’t been muttering softly to herself. Apparently there were more children involved in this crazy little scheme of theirs. And apparently they’d been taking care of any of the cameras that might have caught Shiro’s car on tape. 

Shiro doesn’t know how to feel about any of this so he decides the wisest course of action is to ignore it until he can’t. 

(Maybe this way he won’t lose his job.Or…. end up in jail?)

Shiro checks the wound for any potential fragments with the light of his flashlight before moving to clean and numb the area around the wound. “I’m going to need answers,” Shiro says somewhere between the second and third stitch, his hands impossibly calm. 

He watches Keith grit his teeth and hold in his whimpers as Lance grips his hands. Neither say anything.

“I’m going to need to do damage control,” Shiro continues. “So I’ll need the truth… the whole truth.”

“Shiro…” Lance starts.

Shiro shakes his head and adds the fifth stitch. “You’re lucky it was a clean shot and just hit the flesh of your upper arm. It’s going to hurt for a while but you’ll live. It’ll scar something ugly but it could have…” he tries not to think of it hitting bone or worse...

“I’m sorry,” Lance says after a moment, more to Keith than Shiro. 

Keith says nothing but Shiro notices the tears in the corners of his eyes. 

When he’s done, he adds the gauze and collects his the bloody gloves, towels, and sweatshirt. “Try and rest,” Shiro says after a moment of watching them on the sofa. “We’re… we’re going to have a lot to talk about in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god... only 3 chapters left. O.O I cannot believe it! As always thank you all for your continued support. I will be doing my best to finish this fanfic as quickly as possible!
> 
> Please let me know what you think about the story so far in the comments below. And consider checking out my writing tumblr and supporting me there as well! <https://thequeen117.tumblr.com/>
> 
> ALSO! 1/17 is mah birthday!! XD I am officially a yr older!


	31. Twenty-Nine

Shiro wakes them to the smell of gas station coffee and bagels. The others -- his team -- sit crowded around the small table they’d found… somewhere, the parts of the hoverbike lovingly stacked and organized in the corner by, Lance assumes, Hunk. 

Aaron hands him a bagel. Keith is still fast asleep in the other room, knocked out by painkillers and the fatigue from last night. Lance himself is exhausted. The drop after the adrenaline usually enough to leave him weak kneed in relief now makes him want to sleep for a decade or four. 

“How is he?” Hunk asks. 

Lance shrugs, rips into his bagel and leans his weight heavily on Aaron’s side, guilt still churning in his stomach. “Lauren is okay,” Hunk says after a minute. Lance nods. “She’s got detention because they caught her with prank supplies but she said the cover worked.”

“Just a little Halloween tomfoolery,” Shivanni says with a certain air that suggests she’s quoting Lauren directly. “And Mark covered your escape out the back. No one knows how the car or whose car left the premise but we’re going to keep an eye on things internally for as long as we can.”

“That’s good.” Lance offers a weak smile. At least there’s that. “Don’t get risky, though. If you think they know you’re there.”

Shivanni gives him a thumbs up and turns back to her egg sandwich. 

Shiro watches all of them from his seat on the couch with such stillness that if Lance were not hyper-aware of the hawk-like gaze on the side of his face, he could pretend Shiro was carved from stone. 

“How’s Keith going to hide a gunshot wound in school?” Mark finally asks. His eyes are rimmed black from lack of sleep and his leg is shaking up and down as he eats, twitchy. 

“I arranged to take Keith and Lance off campus for some training,” Shiro says suddenly, his voice almost echoing in the room. He sighs and rolls his shoulders. “I’ve been hinting at it for a while to correct their recent behavior in class.” 

“Behavior?” Shivanni asks.

“Keith’s,” Shiro corrects. “And in turn, Lance’s.” Lance turns to meet Shiro’s eyes. “Though I suppose I understand what he meant by keeping secrets.”

“Shiro…” Lance starts.

“I’m going to help you.” Shiro smiles. “I don’t understand completely what you’ve gotten yourself mixed up with. Not yet. But it must be important for you to go this far.”

They all nod. 

“I can’t say it’ll be alright,” Shiro continues. “You all are playing with fire. But I’m going to try and help if I can. And once Keith is up, I expect the full story, of course”

“Of course.” Hunk nods. 

.

In the end, Keith doesn’t wake up. They move him, dead to the world, from the bed to the backseat where Lance carefully cradles him in his lap. The others give their farewells before heading back to the Garrison where, come Monday, they will be expected to return to class. They agree it will be for the best if they keep their heads down.

Aaron promises to update them if anything happens. 

.

Keith wakes sometime in the afternoon in an unfamiliar room in an unfamiliar bed. For one solitary minute, he lets himself panic, lets the wave of fear and nausea rise from his stomach to his throat and build behind clenched teeth before he shoves it all down and breathes hard through his nose. Then he sits up. 

The pain is jarring, hot and sharp along his shoulder and upper arm. He hisses, clenches the sheets around his lap and waits for it to pass. He’d forgotten. 

Then the door opens.

It’s Shiro, hair wet from a shower and carrying a mug of tea and a book. He looks surprised to see Keith, eyes wide before they soften, and he’s smiling and holding out the mug. “Sorry, didn’t realize you were awake.”

Keith almost shrugs. 

“Tea?” Shiro offers.

“N--” he grunts, and clears his throat. “No thank you.”

Shiro nods and sets the mug down within grasping distance anyway. “I’ll go get Lance.” Then he’s gone.

Keith drinks the tea.

.

Lance looks nervous. 

_ Good _ , Keith thinks. It’s a mean thought, one born of anger and frustration. He remembers how alone he’d felt, isolated by the only person who could understand what he was going through. The worst part is he doesn’t even know why. So he’s angry. Sue him. 

“I’m excited to hear the whole story,” Shiro says, sitting on the bed holding a new cup of tea. 

“Me too,” Keith says, and he can’t keep the bitterness from his voice -- not that he really tries.

“You don’t know why?” Shiro presses.

“I only know they were up to something,” Keith admits, the wound on his shoulder stings. “I told you he doesn’t trust me.”

“I trust you!” Lance argues, but Keith rolls his eyes.  _ Liar _ .

“Why don’t you start from the beginning?” Shiro suggests, eyeing them both wearily. He takes a sip from his mug. 

So Lance begins. It’s terrifying hearing what he went through in that sum: the isolation and the mystery, the odd details and the letters that make it feel more and more like reality, like Lance is living someone else’s memories. And then he gets to the Galra. Keith grips the sheets to keep from grabbing Lance and giving him a good shake. 

“And you didn't tell me?” Keith cries before he can stop himself. He watches the guilt form on Lance’s face and it feels like betrayal. Galra. There were Galra and Lance didn’t… “What were you thinking?”

“Iverson,” Lance starts.

“The Commander?” Shiro frowns. “How is he involved?”

“They broke into his office,” Keith mumbles.

Lance shrugs weakly when Shiro turns to him. “What were you thinking?” Shiro asks. 

“Let me explain,” Lance asks. “I… I made mistakes but let me explain.”

The problem is Keith isn’t sure he wants an explanation. He knows it’ll be understandable. He knows if he lets Lance talk about it that he’ll end up forgiving him; he’ll see why and the incident will become just another blip in their friendship. He knows if he gives it enough time he’ll forgive Lance.

But he doesn’t think he wants to this time.

But that doesn’t stop him from listening. 

“Commander Iverson visited me in the hospital afterwards,” Lance explains. Keith feels his stomach roll. “When the others were in class, he told me that if I told anyone, if I told you, Keith….”

“He said that?”

Lance nods, “He said it was best no one knew about the sim, especially Keith.”

“And you listened,” Keith sighs. It isn’t a question. He sees the logic. He hates that he could almost understand. 

“I couldn’t risk your safety,” Lance says like he’s begging, begging for Keith to understand.

And he does. He does.

“I’m tired,” Keith says after a moment. Shiro is staring at neither of them, eyes trained on the door. “I think I’d like to be alone for a bit.”

“Keith…”

“Come on, Lance,” Shiro says, standing up and making his way to the door. “Let’s give him some space.”

.

At some point Lance sneaks back in. He’s quiet. For a moment, Keith wonders if Lance thinks he’s asleep before he breaks the silence. “I don’t want to see you right now.”

It’s silent. Somewhere in the apartment is Shiro. Keith keeps his eyes trained on the wall. “I’m sorry,” Lance whispers.

“You’re always sorry, Lance,” Keith says. “This isn’t the first time you’ve done this.”

Lance sighs and Keith feels the bed move. Finally he turns to look at Lance sitting on the bed. “The worst part is… I don’t know if I would have done anything different.”

“But,” Lance adds. 

Keith closes his eyes and shakes his head. “I don’t want to talk about this right now, Lance.”

“Keith--” Lance tries to insist but Keith shakes his head.

“You hurt me. I was alone and I didn’t understand and if you’d wanted me to know you could have told me anytime we weren’t on campus. You could have at least given a hint.”  _You could have at least tried._ Keith understands why but that doesn’t mean he’s forgiven Lance. He can’t. Not yet.

(He will. They’re all they have and he misses Lance for all that Lance is sitting right next to him.)

“I couldn’t risk getting you hurt.” Lance defends weakly. 

“There are more than one ways I can get hurt,” Keith reminds him, and he tries not to feel satisfaction when he sees Lance flinch. “I can’t talk to you right now.”

He refuses to watch Lance leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two more! Get excited!! XD Also THANK YOU FOR 1K+ Kudos and 600+ Comments!!!! I really appreciate your love and feedback.
> 
> As always please let me know what you think!
> 
> And please support me on my tumblr: [thequeen117.tumblr.com/](https://thequeen117.tumblr.com/)


	32. Thirty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprise!

By the time Keith manages to crawl out of bed and down the corridor, he’s exhausted. Physically and emotionally wrung dry from a night spent tossing and turning and playing and replaying the last few weeks over and over in his head, wondering if there was anything he could have done different.

He knows there isn’t. It took him a long time during his first life to come to terms with it: he can’t change people. He can’t change Lance. He knows Lance feels guilty. He knows why Lance tried to keep him in the dark. He spent the night thinking about it. Based on their limited information and resources and the control the faculty have over their day to day lives, it is safer to leave Keith in the dark then to try and inform him in case someone found out. He gets it. Logically.

Emotionally, they have a lot to talk about.

Because Keith had realized something between 2 and 5 in the morning. Yes, Lance was wrong to leave him the dark. Yes, he understood why Lance did. But… but there had been nothing keeping him from confronting Lance. There had been nothing keeping him from demanding answers, demanding Lance talk to him when he’d felt Lance pull away again.

Instead he retreated, deciding it was better to let go then let Lance leave him; he chose to assume Lance leaving him was inevitable.

Keith isn’t fifteen anymore (for all he looks it). He’s twenty-one. He thought he’d learned to trust his team, learned to trust some people won’t just throw him away when they’re bored. Maybe… maybe he hadn’t?

.

Shiro makes eggs. Keith finishes his in record time. Lance pokes at his plate and feels his stomach grumble but the thought of eating makes his throat tight.

Finally Shiro takes pity on him, “I think… I need answers, but I think I can wait.” He makes a point of looking both of them in the eye before continuing. “If you want a mediator, I’ll be in my bedroom.”

Then he leaves them to it.

Lance watches Keith take their plates to the sink, watches him scrape the egg from Lance’s before rinsing them both and putting them in the dishwasher. Then he watches Keith fill a glass of water and drink it. Delaying the inevitable.

By the time Lance follows Keith to the living room, ten minutes have passed in silence.

Three minutes pass. Then two more. Lance keeps his eyes on the analogue clock Shiro has hanging on the far wall while Keith fidgets next to him. He remembers the way the street lights had silhouetted Keith last night, the way he’d looked so breakable curled up on the bed and swallows hard, jaw clenching.

_There are more than one ways I can get hurt._

“I’m sorry.”

Lance jumps, freezes, and then turns to Keith with wide eyes, thinking he must have heard wrong. “Why in the world are _you_ sorry?”

Keith shrugs, his right hand pressed against the bandages on his left arm. He’s not looking at Lance.

[(Art by My Friend, Alexa!)](https://alalexa-wow.tumblr.com/)

Lance follows his gaze to the floor and realizes he’s not looking at anything really, lost in thought.

Lance frowns. “Why are you sorry, Keith? I’m the one who… I fucked up. You were right. I should have told you. Maybe if I had we could have been more prepared.” _Maybe I wouldn’t have gotten you shot._

Keith sighs and shakes his head. “We always do this. We keep coming back to this.”

Lance stays silent, letting Keith collect his thoughts.

“When we first got here—when you were dealing with depression—we ended up here, me upset and you guilty. Then again, before that even. Back on the ship, how many times have we ended up doing this? Me or you getting upset and not talking about it until we’re here and we have to and everything has gone to shit.” Keith takes a deep breath. “How many post-healing pod talks have we had? How many times have we apologized and promised not to let it happen again?”

Lance opens his mouth but he can’t make the words come. He’s not even sure what he can say. The guilt churns in his stomach. After all, Keith is right, isn’t he? They have been here before.

“I don’t know how to fix it.” It’s quiet, not a whisper but barely above it. It sounds like defeat. Like the end of something Lance hadn’t realized could end.

“So that’s it?” Lance asks. The air suddenly feels fragile. Like one misstep and it’ll shatter and disappear.

Keith doesn’t say anything. Lance watches him close his eyes and collapse against the sofa. “I don’t want to lose you,” Lance says finally.

“I don’t want to lose you either,” Keith admits.

Lance reaches out as if to grab Keith’s hand before hesitating. He draws back and turns to stare at the clock. “So we have to fix it.”

Keith laughs, but there’s nothing really funny about this, “The only question is how.”

Lance shrugs, “We talk?”

“We’ve tried that,” Keith argues.

“Maybe…” Lance struggles for a moment to find the words, to collect his thoughts. “We don’t really talk about the real problem do we?”

Keith doesn’t say anything.

Lance keeps going. “Have we… have we ever really talked about it… us?”

“What do you mean?”

Lance turns to Keith and stretches out to take Keith’s hand in his. “I’m terrified of disappointing you.”

“Lance?”

“No… wait,” Lance bites his lip, takes a deep breath, and tries again. “I’m terrified of disappointing everybody, not just you. I’m terrified of not being in control and I’m terrified of you getting hurt, especially lately, ever since… you know. We ended up here.”

Keith fights back a smile before rolling his eyes. “Oh my god.”

“Hunk kept telling me to tell you,” Lance adds. “But I refused because I didn’t know what fallout could happen and it terrified me so I refused and you got hurt because I have control issues.”

Keith sobers and stares at Lance with dark, unreadable eyes. “I’m terrified of people leaving me.”

Lance nods, squeezing Keith’s hand encouragingly.

“I’m terrified of being alone,” Keith adds. “Not just because we’re alone here in this… this time. I thought I’d gotten over it, but I think I’ve always been terrified you all would leave me.”

“And I didn’t help by disappearing?” Lance suggests.

“I think it’s worse now,” Keith clarifies, “because I don’t really have anyone but you.”

“You have Hunk,” Lance corrects gently.

Keith stops to think about this before shrugging. “Maybe. I don’t… it’s not like how you and Hunk….” he sighs, “And I don’t have Shiro. Hunk can’t understand like you can.”

“No, they can’t,” Lance admits. “Not yet.”

Keith breaths out slowly before continuing. “I was scared you were leaving me, so I decided it was better if I let you go first. That’s why I didn’t hunt you down for answers. I figured you’d gotten bored of me.”

Lance moves closer so they’re touching shoulder to shoulder. “I’m sorry I gave you a reason to think I didn’t trust you.”

Lance feels Keith relax against his shoulder. “I’m sorry for thinking the worst about you,” Keith says. “I don’t want to end up here again.”

“We can’t,” Lance agrees. He doesn’t know if they can take it again, doesn’t want this friendship to end.

.

When Shiro joins them again, it’s lunch time.

Lance finishes his story. Tells them about the bugs in the teacher’s lounge. Tells them why they went after Iverson. Tells them how they came up with the plan. Shiro interrupts every now and then with a question. Keith stays quiet.

It’s only when he’s done and exhausted does he realize Keith never let go of his hand.

.

Later that night. as Lance slips under the covers of Shiro’s bed—Shiro had insisted Keith and Lance share while he took the pull out—Keith asks, “Aren’t you going to therapy?”

Lance fluffs his pillow until it’s almost comfortable enough. “Not yet. I missed my first session and the next one is in two weeks. Why?”

“Maybe we should talk to them,” Keith suggests. He's not looking at Lance, instead keeping his gaze just past his shoulder. 

“What? Like couples therapy?” Lance jokes and calls it a win when he hears Keith laugh.

“Well,” Keith's cheeks are flushed red, “Why not? They might… We clearly don’t communicate very well.”

Lance thinks about it. “Yeah… you know what. Why not?” They're not okay. Not yet, but maybe with some help...

“Why not,” Keith echoes.

Lance teases, “At this rate, we can’t possibly do worse.”

Keith hits him with a pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE! I'm so excited to see your reactions to this chapter! Finally the boys have tried talking it out!! They're not 100% okay but they're getting there. I have every plan to get the last chapter/epilogue/bridge into the sequel out sometime this week (please uni be kind to me). In the next chapter notes, I'll let y'all know what's going on with the schedule and my plans for the two sequels to this story!
> 
> I hope you are all as excited as I am. And, of course, as always please let me know what you thought of this chapter!!


	33. Thirty-One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap. Sorta. :D

Three weeks later and four days before Thanksgiving finds Aaron browsing through another set of classified documents they’d managed to copy from Commander Iverson’s computer. They’d been careful these last few weeks to keep their heads down and search through the information in their down time. He still mourns the fact that Shivanni wasn’t able to get everything, but honestly, considering the circumstances, they did well.

At least they haven’t been caught.

He’s even managed to pass some things along to his cousin, James, who’s been doing him a favor by circulating the word “Galra” in some of his conspiracy theorist circles. Anything suspicious or sounding like a government conspiracy he sends to James in hope of something popping up. So far they hadn’t found much other than mentions of a failed space launch a few years ago, specifically a news report that claimed the failure was “due to a pilot error”. Not the smoking gun Aaron is hoping for. Or… at least not yet.

That’s when he finds it. “Europa” clear as day in a conversation between Commander Iverson and Professor Sutherland: “We were unprepared on Europa. This time it will be on our terms.” It’s the first real clue they’ve found; something tangible enough to shed doubt. 

Lance, Lauren, and Mark’s sim had been on Europa and detailed a failed colony expedition downed by aliens, a conspiracy theorist’s dream. Now here is a conversation referencing a failure on Europa. 

He picks up his phone and texts Shivanni to get over here. 

. 

Lance sits on the edge of Keith’s bed, watching with poorly contained amusement as Keith ran about the room like a chicken with it’s head cut off. 

“I can’t believe,” Keith starts and Lance rolls his eyes, pressing a hand to his mouth to cover his smile, “you didn’t tell me your parents had invited me over for Thanksgiving sooner!”

“In my defense,” Lance repeats, “I forgot.”

Keith throws a sock at him. Lance throws it back. 

In his defense, he really had forgotten. Between the stress of coming back to school after Shiro’s week away of “training” (read talking about feelings a lot) and the three short phone calls he’d forced himself to answer from his parents, he’d forgotten to mention he’d asked his parents if he could bring someone home. 

The fact that they had agreed and actually invited Keith with a prepaid ticket to North Carolina, despite being upset with Lance for the cold shoulder treatment these past four months (and it’s hard to imagine it’s only been about five months since he returned to the past), is nothing short of a miracle. When his dad phoned him hours earlier with a reminder to send them Keith’s email so they could forward Keith the ticket, Lance had needed a few minutes of his own to process. 

Lance laughs as Keith debates the merits of bringing one black shirt over the other. “You need to relax. My parents aren’t going to judge you on the shade of black you wear.”

Keith throws him a glare that would make lesser men weep before throwing both shirts into his “pack” pile. “You don’t know that.”

“Well…” Lance pretends to think about it for a moment, “they are my parents. I feel that after 15 or-so years I have a pretty good grasp of their personalities at this point.”

“Plus,” Lance adds, pulling out his phone to scroll through the his emails, “ this time I haven’t been complaining about you for the last four months like I did last time around.”

Lance watches Keith stare up at the ceiling with a broken look on his face. “I don’t know why I like you.”

Lance laughs. 

Keith throws a pair of jeans at him. “I hate you.”

“No you don’t.” Lance smiles. 

Keith rolls his eyes and turns to his “pack” pile to start folding them into his suitcase. 

“Are you at least excited?” Lance asks. Come to think of it… he had pretty much surprised Keith with a paid ticket… “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.” 

“I want to,” Keith promises, serious for a moment before he jokes, “I’ll finally get to meet the people who raised…” he pauses for emphasis, “ _ that _ .”

Lance laughs before jumping down to join him on the floor and start folding t-shirts. 

“Besides, Chelsy thinks it’s a good idea to help us communicate,” Keith reminds him of their last “couples” therapy session. Part of Lance thinks it might be overkill but he can’t deny the help these last two sessions have provided for his his mental health and friendships. It is hard spinning his memories into something he can tell his therapist but her advice is still useful. 

“Well I’ll have you know my family is as crazy as me,” from what he remembers, “so good luck.”

“I imagine I’ll either love it or hate it,” Keith promises, zipping up the suitcase with a flourish just as their phones buzz. 

.

Hunk sighs in pure relief as the TA calls an end to the session. He doesn’t know why he bothers going to these review sessions. He’s sure the TA knows less than anyone and he has yet to learn why he got question 17 on his midterm wrong. 

Grumbling softly to himself, he slings his backpack over his shoulder and starts making his way out of the classroom before unlocking his phone to see seventeen new text messages. He grins. Finally, they’d found something!

It had been terrifying these last few weeks waiting for the shoe to drop, terrifying wondering if today was the day the administration would find out. Lauren had finished serving her detention for “vandalising” Commander Iverson’s office, a measly four days because apparently the Commander had a sense of humor. Hard to think of the guy as anything but evil after planning to break into his office for a few weeks.

At least Lance and Keith had gotten better. The whole group had been terrified this would be the end of the dynamic duo but honestly they seem better than ever. They’d even started going to couple’s therapy together -- and at this point, Hunk didn’t understand why they bothered denying they were a couple. 

As he turns the corner in the direction of the exit and beyond that Shivanni’s dorm, he hears “Excuse me, Cadet Galeai.”

Hunk stops, surprised, “Professor Sutherland?”

He’s never spoken to her personally before. But everyone knows Professor Sutherland as a hard grader and a teacher with zero tolerance for goofing around. She apparently knew her stuff and if you wanted to really get quantum mechanics she was the person to talk to, but Hunk had always made it a point to avoid things that would make the Garrison harder than it had to be. 

So he isn’t sure why she’s talking to him now.

“Do you mind coming with me for a moment?” She asks. She’s smiling and it’s a nice smile. She doesn’t look mean, but then again what does mean look like? “I’d just like to have a quick word. I was going to send an email but I keep forgetting.”

“Uh... sure.” Hunk shrugs, falling into step just behind her while texting the others he’s going to be late.

“Thank you for being so flexible,” She says, as Hunk follows her into her office. “ Hopefully this won’t take too long. I just wanted to ask you a few questions about your friends. Lance and Keith in particular.”

The closing of the door sounds like a death sentence.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND WE'RE DONE! Thank you everyone who stuck with this story! I cannot believe it has been about 1.5yrs since I started. I also cannot believe I managed to reach this breakpoint! 
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed reading this story as much as I did writing it! Your feedback honestly makes my day and keeps me going. To everyone who commented, liked, or bookmarked, thank you so much!!
> 
> I have two sequels to this story planned. A shorter story called "Advice from a Caterpillar" and a longer one called "A Mad Tea Party!" that should end this series. If you wanna know my plans for that series please check out my tumblr: [thequeen117.tumblr.com/](https://thequeen117.tumblr.com/)
> 
> In the meantime, please let me know what you think down below! How did you like the "ending?" Are you excited for the sequels?
> 
> PS: I headcanon Hunk’s real name is Rangi Galeai. Rangi Galeai is a samoan name that means "Heavenly Winds." Rangi means "heaven/sky" and Galeai means "gale/wind." That's why Sutherland calls Hunk Cadet Galeai.


	34. Announcement!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sequel to Down the Rabbit Hole, Advice from a Caterpillar is now up!

The Sequel to _Down the Rabbit Hole_

# ADVICE FROM A CATERPILLAR

is now up!

 

See you all there!

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up at my tumblr: queenmogar117.tumblr.com


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